


Through The Glass // Chanmin

by Atumun15



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Anarchy, Codependency, Depression, Loneliness, Love, M/M, Mental Illness, Self Harm, Slow Burn, Suicidal Thoughts, angsty, changlix, chanmin - Freeform, mature - Freeform, multiuniverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-12
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-03-30 10:46:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 54,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13949958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Atumun15/pseuds/Atumun15
Summary: “Because I’m just through the glass.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome! I’m gonna try and update this at least once a week (probably mondays) and I’m super excited for this!

    Chan's body laid unmoving on his mattress, eyes trained up to the ceiling of his worn down apartment as he tried his best to ignore the loud noises coming from the couple in the apartment next to him. He pressed the edges of his pillow up against his ears, a whimper escaping past his lips as a head ache creeped up to his temples. The couple just wouldn't stop. They had been doing this for hours and Chan swore he saw light peaking over the horizon. So, with an angry huff, he grabbed the closest item he could find and slammed it against the wall, the couple silencing for a split second. 

   For a second, Chan thought they were going to stop and let him get a few hours before he had to go to Uni in the morning. But no. They only got louder and more obnoxious. Chan let out a screech, roughly getting out of bed and escaping into his bathroom, his body freezing when he caught sight of himself in the mirror. Chan was wearing nothing but a pair of over sized boxers and an equally over sized t-shirt, most of his body exposed to the cool air and any sort of eyes that could have potentially been there.

     Chan looked like a mess, dark, puffy red eyes, sickly pale skin and obvious lack of sleep and nutrience apparent on his skinny, drowsy body. Chan rubbed at his face in pure and utter exhaustion, both his mind and body practically whimpering for some sort of sleep. Chan debated falling asleep in the bathroom, curling up in the bath tub as it was the room that muffled the sounds coming from the apartment over. His fingers grazed the mirror, his reflection moving with him perfectly. Sometimes, Chan wished he had another, that the person he stared at in the mirror had been another person instead of himself. 

    But no. Chan was alone. He was alone in a country he barely knew and didn't have anywhere else to go. His parents died at a young age and he was placed in the system, his foster parents taking him in and moving him all the way to Korea, only to kick him out the moment he turned 18 and force him into the cruel, evil world without another thought. It hadn't helped that in school, he was made fun of for not knowing the language very well, but this had actually given him the motivation and now he can speak Korean fluently.

     However, Chan still struggled, much like everyone else living around him. He barely had enough money to scrape by with a full meal most days, his little paying job and occasional busking at the shop a few blocks down bringing in very little money, college debts not helping at all. Chan wished he could escape into an odd reality from time to time, where stress was rare and people learned to co exist with each other. But he was stuck here. 

    The boy felt like he could cry, his palm pressing flat against the dirty reflection as tears began to pool in his eyes. He sniffled once, a singular tear escaping his left eye and Chan decided that that had been enough for the night. He took deep, quick breaths, rubbing at his cheeks to keep the wetness at bay along with his emotions. Suddenly, that cold tub sounded pretty nice. Chan stepped inside without hesitation, laying down and curling up into a fetal position as his breath left in choked sobs and whimpers. Eventually, Chan fell asleep to the sound of his own heart beat and the muffled sound of his neighbors. 

 

       Chan's eyes were sore beyond belief. Like so sore they were practically releasing tears by themselves at the pure idea of them staying open. His professor's voice was fading in and out, Chan only picking up on particular words and phrases that linked together to make a bunch of nothingness. His skin still felt cold from the freezing porcelain of his bath tub despite the multiple layers of clothes he wore. The cold spots lingered like bruises, reminding him of the uncomfortable bed he had last night and the little to no sleep he received from it.  

    It took almost everything in him to not walk out of class and to the near by bridge and end it all. What had been the point? He was failing his classes, his foster parents hadn't spoken to him in two years, he was about to lose his apartment, and his boss was on the verge of firing him. There was no one here that would keep him, someone to hold him and tell him it was going to be okay. Chan knew deep down that he had to learn to do it himself, to become independent and rely on himself.

   But it had been exhausting. He had done it for the past year after his friend BamBam became an idol and moved on with his life. Chan didn't hold that against him, they were best friends, but sometimes, Chan wished BamBam dragged him a long for the ride instead of leaving him in the dust in the middle of an alley with the moon barely peaking over the top edges of the buildings. But life wasn't fair. And Chan had to make the best of what he had, even if the closest thing he had to a friend was the reflection in the mirror.

     Chan sat through the rest of the lesson, the rest of his work shift, and the rest of his 2 hour busk at the street corner. But it seemed to all pass by like a blinding blur, white and dark flashes racing by his vision as he walked down the street. He should have been freaked out, worried if he was hallucinating but even Chan's mind seemed to be clouded with a foggy like haze. Everything seemed disoriented and almost unrealistic, light neon mint lights joining with the white and black. 

     He didn't know what was going on, his very own body feeling like it was bubbling and disappearing into thin air from the legs up. His head span, legs no longer succumbing to his thoughts and nerves and stopping right in the middle of the street. A flash of white and a numbing slam to his stomach that felt more like pressure than pain appeared before Chan's body completely gave out. His limbs fell to the ground, hip slamming against the concrete before his head and with a final, muffled scream and honk, Chan blacked out.

 

     The moon barely hung in the sky, creating an illuminating light to shine on his damp face. Minho's eyes were sore, sorer than they had been in weeks. His legs dangled over the cliff side, observing the dry waste land just over the borders of the city. It went on for miles and miles, a completely different contrast to the neon, lively city he had been forced to live in. Minho had heard stories of the land beyond the perfect utopia his capital was made out to be. It was deadly, the people living in the toxic wasteland being made out to be insane and killing machines. 

    But those had only been stories, and Minho began to wonder just how true they had been. Minho had been higher up in the system of this perfect utopia, his parents close friends with some of the council members, ultimately forcing Minho to be friends with one of their sons. Felix hadn't been a bad kid, in fact he made Minho not hate his life pretty often, but sometimes, Minho just wished he could leave the walls and escape into the waste land where no one could find him. It sounded like a damn dream.

      But due to his placement, he heard and saw things average commoners weren't supposed to know. He saw the blue prints, the chips the council had been making to keep better track of the community. He even saw the little implements they would install but never mention that controlled the nerves in their heads and bodies. This wasn't the perfect utopia the council made it out to be, it was broken and corrupted, a system Minho wished he and Felix didn't have to be a part of. Minho wished he could live in a reality where people could co exist without feeling as though they have to control every being. 

     A hefty sigh escaped Minho's lips, staring off into the distance. However, his eyes widened in alarm when he heard sirens coming closer and closer into the out skirts of the city, closer and closer to the border. Minho debated jumping off right then and there, off of the cliff and into the electrified water below. But Minho knew better. The boy stumbled up, pockets heavy and racing into the forest, finding a tree and pressing his back against it. He could hear the snapping of footsteps and the robotic movements of the police in the distance, no doubt approaching his spot on the cliff. 

    Minho didn't know why the police had been in the forest, no doubt believing that people were trying to enter, but if they found Minho... He shuddered at the thought. This perfect utopia doesn't kill, they punish. Public punishments where you receive whips or burns from every member that lives in the community you and your family have been appointed to. Depending on the crime, those who commit crimes could even be shunned and pushed to the sewers of the city where the mentally insane reside. It was a dark place, sometimes more feared than the wasteland surrounding the city.

    A quiet whimper escaped his lips when he heard a boom, flinching and cupping his hands close to his chest. He blinked his eyes open when there were no other sounds coming from the surrounding area. Looking around with shaky breath, Minho stepped away from the tree and turned to look around, coming face to face with a hooded figure with stern, cold eyes. Minho was about to let out a scream, but the man raised a single palm in the air, a symbol Minho didn't recognize pierced into the skin with dark ink that shut Minho right up.

"Stay quiet and I'll help you." Minho's eyes furrowed in fear and confusion, his mouth unable to open and question the figure before him that held an undeniable power over him. "I saw the way you eyed the outside, you wish to be one of us, those who are free and live in peace." The figures voice was soft but knowing, completely aware of Minho's desires to leave the city. "Yes, we are free but we do not live in the peace you desire." 

    At the time, Minho didn't care. He wanted out. Anywhere had to be better than the city. "I don't...." Minho paused, not trusting his voice entirely. "I don't care." It came out with shakiness, but it was clear Minho had been sure of his decision. The figure studied him a moment, prominent chin jutted out as if he were the one unsure. As if he were the one being held hostage. However, both of their eyes widened in alarm when they heard the sound of more police vehicles and soldiers approaching the area. The figure approached Minho, nearly nose to nose.

"Do you trust me?"

"What-"

"Do you trust me?!" The figure hissed throwing his arms in the air. Minho gulped audibly, nodding his head unsurely. The figure sighed, almost disappointed by the answer and nodded. "Okay. Don't fight it kid. Follow the system. I will find you" Minho felt a blunt hit to the back of his head before he saw a flash of blue and a warm hand to his cheek. Changbin caught Minho's limp body in his arms and sighed, gently laying him on the ground and pressing his marked palm against his cheek and leaving a bloodied version of the symbol that had been imprinted on his hand. 

   Minho was left in the cold forest, unknowingly being picked up by the soldiers and forced back into the system at the mere sight of the print on his cheek.

 

    His body felt limp, weightless to an extent. For the first time in a long time, he seemed as though he was okay. Bruises didn't litter his skin, he didn't yearn for a change, and everything seemed to be perfectly in order. HIs mind was at ease, everything peaceful and tranquil.

    Until he opened his eyes. 

    The room he was in went on forever, a glass floor beneath him that reflected an image of a pond with every step he took. On one end, there was nothing, on the other there was a big, blue wall, transparent and reflecting that of a mirror. The boy approached the cloudy ice like glass, the structure nothing like what he had seen before, the reflection moving as he did but not showing who he was. The person on the other side of the glass was not him. It seemed like their movements paralleled the other, both moving back in shock at the other person. 

"Hello?" They both uttered at the same time, gasping in sync when they realized their voices over lapped the others. However, the voice on the other side matched his own, it had just been an echo. A frown etched itself on both of their lips, moving in very drastic and quick movements, all of them mirroring the others. He thought he was going insane, until he touched the mirror. They both touched it at the same time, a crack forcing itself across the top of the wall and glowing with a faded turquoise. 

    They no longer moved in sync.

    The two gazed at each other in interest, now moving differently from the other and realizing that there was in fact another on the other side. "What is your name?" The silvery haired boy murmured, expecting a different voice but getting his own instead of the others. It hadn't been the voice he thought he had, but the voice one hates when they hear a recording of themselves, the voice everyone wonders how the fuck other listens to on a regular basis. But with the boy on the other side, the way his lips moved or the way his eyes brows shifted when he spoke, this voice was heaven. 

"Minho"

"I'm Chan" 

The silence that followed would be considered awkward, something unbearable to the naked eye. But both boys were too busy studying the other and trying to figure out what the fuck is going on. "So is that was the after life is? Or have I just finally lost my mind and I'm in an asylum at this point?" Chan muttered, the other boy breathing a little heavier to show his amusement. As much as Minho would have liked to laugh, this whole situation wasn't one where he could be laughing.

"I'm not too sure. I remember... I remember getting hit in the back of my head and all of these flashing lights entered my vision and then I blacked out" Chan didn't exactly know this boy, nor did he know what was going on, but he knew one thing and that had been the fact that this boy was the only person in his life and he'd be damned if they were frowning, hallucination or not. Chan reached out, as if he were going to take the boy into his arms, but his finger tips were met with the cold surface of the wall instead. 

Minho flinched at the sudden movement, but glanced up to meet gazes with Chan and felt his heart lurch. The concern etched on the other's face was something that Minho never saw on anyone other than Felix, and seeing it on Chan... he felt unworthy of it. Minho inched forward, placing his fingers against the cold surface where Chan's has been. They stared for a while, hearing another crack in the glass and glancing around until they found it, appearing where their feet would be. The two's heads snapped up, not entirely sure what the crack had in store for them. 

Chan pressed his palm flat against the mirror, like he had done that night and Chan began to wonder if Minho was on the other side of the mirror. If this was just some sort of out worldly element to life and that Minho had been there unknowingly the entire time. "I don't know you, I don't even know if you're real or not but don't ever frown again you hear me?" Minho gulped in shock, nodding his head frantically, "You might just be a hallucination, something my head has made up due to loneliness..." 

Chan took a deep breath, "but you're the only thing I have at this point. Even if we met moments ago, and I'll never see you again." Minho hated the crack to Chan's tone when he spoke, he hated the obvious loneliness the beautiful boy had been experiencing. He hated all of it, but there was little he could do except reassure him that he was here, that he was real, even if Chan himself might not have been real. Minho flattened his palm the same way Chan had done, the other's fingers a little bit longer than his own. 

"I'm here. Every time you look in the mirror, know that i'm real. You are not alone, because I'm just through the glass" Chan smiled at Minho, stroking his thumb against the glass. Chan couldn't explain the feeling he got, it wasn't a romantic intriguement he had for the beautiful boy behind the glass, but it hadn't been entirely platonic either. Minho gave him an airy feeling, as if he didn't have the weight of his own life on his shoulders. "Chan?" Minho's voice suddenly came out in shambles, frantically banging against the glass. 

     Chan felt his feet stuck to the ground, but the floor beneath him began to move from underneath his feet. It all happened in a split second, Minho's muffled screams echoing in his head and becoming more and more disoriented the farther he moved away from the glass. Chan felt like his body was curling on himself, despite it practically get stretched by time itself, the glass no longer being seen and leaving Chan with only a turquoise tinted version of Minho's face.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "...but I’m happy you’re here, in this world even if you’re not in the next.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M BACK
> 
> I'm sorry this took me so long to get out but I've been on my grind and hopefully the book should be finished soon and I can get it out to you guys soon. 
> 
> This was edited by my lovely best friend, Ren, thanks, Fountain, for putting up with my mess of thoughts <33

The same ringing from before chimed endlessly in his head, his already light head seemingly becoming more light. It felt as though his brain was pounding against the walls of his skull, trying its best to worm its way out through his ears, nose, and mouth. A grunt fell from Chan’s lips, eyes flickering open and letting his head loll off from side to side as his mind tried to process where he was. Doctors hovered above him, speaking to him and asking him questions that were just too muffled for him to decipher. 

“Could you let him breathe for a second? He just woke up!” A new voice screeched from behind all the doctors, some of them backing away at the sudden loud volume. The figure the voice belonged to stepped forward and broke through the crowd of people. Standing before Chan was his old best friend, BamBam and surprisingly, Chan felt anything but relief. BamBam walked and looked like a damn god, as if his life was actually together and not at all what Chan’s had been. 

Shivers coursed down Chan’s spine when he locked eyes with BamBam, shrinking in on himself in pure insecurity. Here he was, curled up in a hospital bed that was probably worth more than the rent he struggled to pay and probably looking like a mess in front of his well dressed best friend who had made it big. It hadn’t helped that BamBam was looking at him with so much concern it was overwhelming. BamBam wasn’t supposed to look at Chan like that; He wasn’t supposed to care. Not when they were so different. 

BamBam approached his bed, hands out as if Chan was some sort of wild animal. Chan flinched back. “Channie…” BamBam croaked, head and hands hanging in shame. Doctors murmured around them in confusion, obviously trying to figure out why this idol had been worrying about a boy who was troubled and no doubt broke. “Leave us,” BamBam turned to the doctors with eyes aflame. Everyone scurried out the room merely at his words; BamBam no doubt had a lot of power over them. 

The elder of the two swirled back around to face Chan with a sad smile, teeth latching down on his bottom lip. Chan looked anywhere and everywhere to avoid BamBam’s gaze, fingers roughly clutching the edges of the thin blanket thrown over him. He focused on the ache in his fingertips and nails when BamBam sat down in the chair next to him, but when delicate, slim fingers took a hold of his callused, dirty ones he could no longer rely on the ache in his hands but instead the one in his heart. “Channie… Please.” 

Chan didn’t look up but the way his body tensed and his head shook, the nickname obviously hadn’t sat well. “You don’t get to call me that anymore.” His voice cracked and wavered as he spoke. Chan’s eyes were clenched shut and a tear leaked from between the closed lids when a hand gently caressed the edges of his cheekbone. He flinched away once more. “You left, Kunpimook. One minute we were watching a movie, and the next you were on stage in front of millions people.” Chan wasn’t aggressive in the way he spoke, quite the opposite, really. He sounded weak, broken. 

BamBam didn’t look at all taken back as he knew what he had done. He was guilty of telling Chan he loved him and wouldn’t ever leave him behind and abandoning him not long afterwards. “I know. I’m sorry.” BamBam could have gone on this long rant about how sorry he was and how much he missed Chan, but it wouldn’t have done any good. Chan strongly believed in the idea of actions speaking larger than words and BamBam knew that. God. He knew that. “Let me make it up to you. I miss you, so much.” 

Chan allowed BamBam to take his right hand between his two larger ones and kiss his knuckles sweetly. Much like always, BamBam got away with fire licking at his feet. BamBam held a certain power over Chan, one that had been there since they were small children. BamBam always sweet talked his way out of things, at least to the point where his actions could fix the rest. “You look so frail, Channie. How long have you been doing this to yourself? Doctors keep telling me your malnutritioned and sleep deprived. I even went to go check out your apartment…” Chan froze. No no no. BamBam wasn’t supposed to see that.

BamBam wasn’t supposed to see any of this. BamBam was supposed to be with his group members making awesome music and traveling the world. BamBam was supposed to be BamBam, Kpop sensation of Got7. BamBam wasn’t supposed to be Chan’s best friend. BamBam wasn’t supposed to be in a hospital room holding a boys hand who was worth less than the silk shirt he was wearing. BamBam wasn’t supposed to be here. 

Chan gently tore his hand out of BamBam’s grip, lip tucked between his teeth and becoming raw underneath the sharp edges. “You shouldn’t be here. You should be with your friends.” His tone teetered on the edge of cold and broken, a mix of both if you were to really study the way his voice sounded. Now, BamBam had been caught completely off guard. Did Chan really deem himself less important than his group members? To BamBam, Chan was worth the entire world and more; and BamBam neglected him greatly. 

At this point, BamBam was entirely convinced he was going to win Chan back. He was going to do anything to put this broken boy back together. “Despite everything else changing… How I feel about you hasn’t. You’re always going to be the most important person in my life.” As sweet as it sounded Chan knew it wasn’t true. BamBam may have felt that way but one day he would move on and find someone so much better than him, someone he can be with in the public eye. However, he could do nothing but smile sadly and reach out to place his hand on BamBam’s cheek. 

The elder practically sunk into him with the softest of smiles tugging at his lips. BamBam even went as far as unknowingly nuzzling his face further into Chan’s palm. Lips met the callused skin of Chan’s palm over and over again until it was damp and the owner of said hand was giggling uncontrollably. The kisses even trailed up Chan’s wrist, forearm, bicep and around his shoulder until BamBam rested his chin there and smiled cheekily. The younger smiled down at him softly, reached forward and placed a lingering kiss to BamBam’s forehead. 

BamBam took Chan’s hand in his own and stroked his knuckles lightly, shifting his head so his cheek rested against the younger’s bony shoulder and enjoyed the silence that followed. “You have to take care of yourself, Chan.” So much for silence. The only indication BamBam received was a sigh; nothing more, nothing less. BamBam didn’t get to touch on the subject further because his manger and the doctor came barging through the door. Chan jumped away from his hyung. BamBam tensed up underneath the harsh eyes of his manager. 

“You’ve had more than enough time to be with him, BamBam. We have work to do.” The man snarled, tapping his foot impatiently. BamBam looked ready to argue with him; he hadn’t planned on leaving Chan’s side anytime soon. However, Chan was quick to lace his fingers around BamBam’s bicep and stop him from doing something incredibly stupid. The elder’s gaze softened when he met the sight of Chan’s busted and beaten face, instinctively reaching out to run his thumb over Chan’s lower lip. He placed a small kiss to the pad of his thumb.

“Go. I’ll be okay,” Chan falsely reassured, an equally as false smile on his face. BamBam didn’t look too convinced but he couldn’t do much else, especially when Chan was telling him to go. So, with a huff mixed with a grumble, BamBam left with his manager, but not after twining his arms around Chan’s neck and giving him a tight hug and whispering to him to take care of himself and that he’d be there later that night. His manager merely scoffed with slight disgust and ushered BamBam out the door.

Except, BamBam would be there later that night and Chan wouldn’t be. As soon as BamBam left, Chan didn’t even give the doctor a chance to speak before he started firing questions, “If I left right now, how much will the bill be? I need discharge papers now.” The doctor’s eyes were blown wide at the way Chan went from being soft around BamBam to this frantic, broke teenager who needed enough money to pay this months rent. 

“It’s already been paid for, sir-”

“By the guy who was just in here?” The doctor nodded his head frantically. Chan’s eyes nearly rolled into the back of his head, his neck pivoting upwards to throw his head against the pillow. “Fucks sake, Hyung,” Chan muttered under his breath before facing the doctor. “Tell me what I need to know about my body and get me my discharge papers” Chan demanded, wincing at the ache in his ribs when he shot up too quickly. The doctor narrowed his eyes at his patient, gripping his clipboard tightly.

“Mr. Bang, you have bruised ribs and a fractured ankle, not to mention a concussion. I would severely recommend staying here until you can safely travel on your own,” the doctor hissed and Chan could basically see the panicked, money hungry look in this man’s eyes. He just wanted money, that’s all this was. Chan rolled his eyes, and began to move from his position on the bed, throwing his legs over the side. 

“Sir, I don’t care. I need to make sure I have enough money to pay for this month’s rent, and I can’t do that sitting in a hospital bed. So please, sir, get these IVs out of my arms and let me go home,” Chan growled, eyes narrowed in anger. The doctor huffed and stormed out, nearly throwing the clipboard on the front desk before grumbling for papers. A nurse helped Chan remove his IVs and stabilize himself, nearly calling for the doctor when he almost fell to the ground. However, Chan was quick to silence her, pleading for her to not interfere and just let him go home. It had taken a bit of convincing but he managed to worm his way out of the hospital with his dirty clothes from the crash.

His apartment was cleaned and organized, the complete opposite from how he left it before the accident and to an extent, it freaked Chan out. BamBam had obviously been here and decided to take it upon himself and clean all of his space. As nice as it had been, Chan was still pretty caught off guard and insecure about the idea of BamBam being in such a filthy place with such fancy and expensive clothes. However, Chan had work to do, so he grabbed an ice pack from the freezer and tugged out his laptop before sitting at his desk and resting the ice pack against his ribs.

 

Harsh knocks came at the door late into the night, masking the heavy rain pouring down onto the roof of the apartment complex. Chan huffed and tugged off his headphones, only to wince when he stood up and nearly stumble over. He managed to catch himself on the table, gripping the corners tightly as he stabilized himself. Chan sucked in a deep breath and moved forward to the door, swinging it open and being met with a fire eyed BamBam. “Bang Chan, you idiot!” 

Chan stared at the elder blankly before going to shut the door, but BamBam’s shiny shoe stuck itself between the chipped, rough doorway. Chan winced at the squeak of leather, a moment of vulnerability shining through and giving BamBam the opportunity to push his way into the apartment and close the door behind him. “Leaving the hospital when you’re injured and have a fucking concussion? Are you insane? Do you know what could have happened?” BamBam screeched, arms flying in the air wildly. Chan shrunk back on himself, flinching at not only his loud yells but towering height. 

“You could have gotten hurt, Chan! You’re such an idiot!” BamBam’s face had been bright red with anger at this point, not realizing what he had been doing to the younger until it was a little too late. Tears escaped the younger’s eyes and his bottom lip wobbled. BamBam’s face fell. Chan hated yelling. “Oh no, Baby don’t cry, I’m sorry for yelling,” BamBam weakly murmured, tugging Chan’s trembling body into his arms and stroking his hair. 

Chan didn’t cry; he didn’t have the energy. He merely stood there in his friend’s arms and trembled until it passed. He felt gross knowing BamBam’s silk shirt had been touching him and the dirty clothes on his body he had failed to change out of. “Are you still wearing the same clothes from the crash?” BamBam inquired, burying his face into the younger’s neck and placing a few pecks there. Chan slowly nodded. The elder sighed and pulled away, rubbing his hands up and down his shoulders. “Go shower, baby.” Chan was hesitant. “Please? For me?” Oh no. The pout. Chan huffed and pulled away, storming into the bedroom to grab some clothes before migrating to the bathroom, not without sending BamBam a playful glare. 

When the bathroom door clicked shut, the outside world ceased to exist. No sound could be heard in the small space Chan had locked himself into and the boy didn’t hesitate to strip himself of his clothes and start a steaming hot shower. The water felt nice flowing down his body, naive to the purple, glowing streaks flowing around his head and avoiding the edges of his visions. Chan sucked in a deep, large breath, letting his body relax and submit to the warmth of the water. He wasn’t sure why, but a face popped into his head. A face that suddenly had his eyes snapped his eyes open, had him out of the shower and in front of the mirror with water dripping down his skin. 

Minho.

Chan took in a shaky breath and reached out to graze his fingertips against the glass. Tears sprung to his eyes; Chan’s heart yearned to see the younger again, to speak to him again. Minho made him feel less lonely, despite them only interacting once. There was something comforting to him to know that someone was on the other side of the mirror, someone who wouldn’t judge him, someone Chan wouldn’t feel like he couldn’t be with because they were so different. 

It was hard to explain.

Knocks came at the bathroom door, BamBam’s voice ringing out, “Channie? You okay? You’ve been in there awhile.” Chan huffed and slipped on his clothes quickly, despite him being soaking wet and the clothes sticking to every part of his body. The younger through the door open, silver hair dripping wet and letting all of the steam inside float out into the apartment. BamBam hummed in amusement at the sight of a still wet Chan and shook his head, taking the boy’s hand and guiding him into the kitchen.

BamBam made a delicious dinner for the both of them, which was the first genuine meal Chan has eaten in a little over two months. They ended up in Chan’s bed, window open and freshly changed into more comfortable clothes. Chan was hesitant to lend the taller his clothes but BamBam had insisted on sleeping over and stealing Chan’s clothes. So now the two were holed up in bed, BamBam hugging Chan’s back close to his chest and peppering kisses along his neck. “I missed you so much, Chan,” BamBam breathed. The words were supposed to be sweet but for Chan… For Chan, they left a bitter taste in his mouth. All the boy could do was place his hand on the one resting against his stomach and pat it lightly. BamBam took that as an invitation to intertwine their fingers and Chan didn’t have the heart to untwine them. 

The kisses soon faded out and BamBam fell asleep to the sound of Chan’s breathing and the pitter patter of rain against the window. Chan hadn’t fallen asleep as easily. This position didn’t have the power over him it used to; Chan felt uncomfortable here in BamBam’s embrace. This intimately, anyway. 

Chan shifted his body so it was facing up and he could tuck an arm underneath his head and stare up at the ceiling. He wondered if this was he beginning of the end of his days; If BamBam coming back and trying to help him a sign that he was to die soon. It hadn’t entirely made sense when Chan uttered it out loud but in his head, it had. This was punishment for all his wrong doings. To have one of his first loves to show up and pick Chan up and off of the ground but unknowingly failing? This was punishment for Chan, if not both parties. 

Purple streaks of neon lights swarmed around his head. Chan hadn’t moved his head fast enough to avoid them; this had been another glitch. A shiny glimmer in the corner of his vision caught his interest, pivoting his head to face the body mirror leaning against the wall. The same face from before flashed into his head and drawing him to the mirror. Gentle, comforting whispers reached his ears; Chan hadn’t been able to make anything out of them but the comforting goosebumps that rose on his skin was enough to have him lifting himself out of bed and approaching the mirror. 

Chan fell to his knees, shaky breaths coming out in quiet puffs and his arm reaching out to graze his fingers against the glass. The reflective material was cold and inviting, Chan resting his arm and cheek against the mirror and stroking the bottom lightly. He knew he probably looked odd and insane leaning against the mirror and whispering to it quietly but when all of the blood rushed to his head and he fell back against the mirror limply, he wasn’t given the chance to dwell on it. 

 

Shivers ran up and down the twitching body in the corner, hairs stood on the back of his neck and eyes squeezed shut. Minho didn’t want to face the darkness that surrounded him; he didn’t want to look at the sewer-like room he had been thrown in. The poor boy flinched every time he heard a screech or bang against the metal bars in the cells next to him. Minho looked completely and utterly pitiful curled up in the corner of the musty brick room, seemingly giving off perfect jailbait vibes. “Hey kid! Wake up! Your questioning is this morning.” One of the guards banged against the bars with his piece roughly, startling the boys eyes open. 

Howls invaded the cell block for a few seconds until a screech broke through and a loud thump was heard. The rest of the prisoners went quiet after one of their own was knocked out, fearing the same fate. MInho’s cell door opened abruptly and he wasn’t even given the chance to get up before hits came down on his body. “I said get up!” The guard gruffed, voice robotic due to the sound piece attached to his protective mask. Minho let out a whimper at every hit, body shriveling or stretching out depending on the placement of the blow.   
Minho was beaten and bruised on the dirty sewer floor, half unconscious and completely unaware of the blood rushing from his head and mouth. Two sets of hands were placed underneath his arms and he was taken out of his holding cell, feet dragging against the ground. Minho faded in and out. One minute he was being dragged up a dark set of stairs, and the next he was in a pristine, bright elevator, able to see the entirety of the city below him. “A council member's son, yeah? Which ones’ your parents?” One of the men holding Minho up snickered.

The other guard didn’t give Minho a chance to mutter out any sort of response, “You’re not supposed to ask. We’re not even given this kids name,” he hissed, sounding far older and more robotic than the other. A huff came from the younger one and the elevator was filled with silence once again. Minho figured they would have thrown him to the ground already if they didn’t have to keep the elevator relatively clean. 

The elevator reached their destination and the doors slid open nicely with a soft ding. The guards dragged him roughly out through the doors but Minho’s shoe got stuck on the floor, halting further movement. The elder guard growled and yanked him forward, digging a hand into his hair and yanking his face back so Minho was looking up at him, “Causing all sorts of problems. I won’t be surprised if they throw you into the deepest parts of the sewers to rot for the rest of your life.” 

Minho hadn’t been sure if that was supposed to be scare him or not but he could say that it did. The boy remembered the figure he met in the forest but that hadn’t given him more than an ounce of reassurance. How was he supposed to know that the boy wasn’t lying? That that hadn’t just been a way for him to escape the guards. Minho sunk further to the ground, trying to suppress the tears threatening to spill and embarrass himself in front of the guards. “We have the prisoner,” the younger one spoke out gruffly to a well dressed man stood at the door. Minho recognized him as one of the assistants. 

He wasn’t sure where the sudden daring nature came from but Minho never broke eyes with the man. He wanted him to be uncomfortable. He wanted this man to know that Minho knew about the system and what it did. 

Minho was not going to stay quiet. 

The assistant nodded shakily, eyes flickering away in discomfort and motioning for the guards to proceed. The large, white door in front of them swung open and the council stood before him. The room was quite large, a U-shaped table at the far end with the eleven council members standing behind it. There was a pond of sorts along the curve of the table with an assortment of fish and water life that you only saw in the upper city. Long, dark purple drapes framed the windows, with the cities sacred symbol in the middle of each piece of velvet fabric. 

Minho had been in this room many times, but never had he been in the prisoner’s footsteps. Until now anyway.

It was deathly quiet. None of the council members dared to speak. Minho was thrown into the dark purple, cushioned chair that sat a few yards away from the council table. His body fell limp against the cushion, blood dripping from his mouth and landing on his dirty, white pants. A woman who looked like a female version of Minho took a sharp intake of breath before coughing roughly. “Let’s begin.” Her voice was smooth and level. She was being entirely professional and using the least amount of emotion she could, even if this boy had been her own son. 

The council sat down but they were still quite far up, all looking down on him as if he were the mud on the bottom of their shoes. “Prisoner 481, Lee Minho, son of Lee Minseo and Lee Hyunwoo, found at the border bearing a mark of a clan of the Wasteland,” the robotic voice of Felix’s father’s assistant boomed out Minho’s information. The prisoner kept his eyes trained on his lap, the nerve he had with the assistant earlier disappearing at the sight of his parents. No one spoke, not quite sure where to begin. 

Minho had been one of the better students. He was polite, smart, and obedient. They had all see him as a son and never expected this from him. “Lee Minho. Please explain what happened two nights ago,” Felix’s father graveled from the left side of the council table, right across from Minho’s mother. Minho didn’t answer, didn’t even look up. The elder guard from earlier came up behind him and grabbed his hair, demanding for him to answer the question. “That’s enough,” Felix’s father cut in quickly. 

The guard dropped Minho’s hair from his fingertips, but Minho’s head did not dangle. Minho had an idea. “I was taking a midnight walk. I couldn’t sleep and my aunty always told me to take walks when I was restless. I hadn’t realized I had ventured too close to the walls and heard sirens from the edge of the forest. Next thing I knew I saw guards and was knocked out.” Minho truly hadn’t done anything wrong in walking too close to the borders; there hadn’t been a rule against it, it was just ill advised. But implying that maybe one of the guards had given him the clan mark? That was alarming. 

“How does that explain the mark on your cheek?” Minho hated the doubt in his father’s voice. The man knew Minho had been lying and he was keeping himself unbiased. He was saving his reputation. 

But Minho was far smarter than any of the council members gave him credit for.

The boy cocked his head to the side, making sure his injuries were on show as he licked away the blood still pooling from the open cut on his lip. “I think there are people here who are trying to harm us and the system. There was no one else with me in the forest that night. The only people I saw were wearing the white suits of the guards.” Minho spat, some of the blood spitting in his father’s direction. Questions had been thrown left and right, Minho answering them to the best of his ability but also keeping to the story he had developed in his head.

But voting was entirely a different subject. There was no guarantee that Minho was believed and he could still be cast aside to the sewers. Each council member had a red and blue candle, red signifying guilty and blue innocent. Every member lit their candle and by the end it had been 5-5, Minho’s mother being the last to light her respective candle. Her son stared her down, eyes pleading and screaming ‘Mother, please.’ “Mrs. Lee. You must vote to cast him into the sewers or to keep him in the system. We have much more important cases to deal with,” a council woman from the other side of the table hissed.

That’s all Minho was. A case. 

For a split second, Minho thought he saw his mother. He thought he saw the woman who raised and loved him for who he was. But this was Lee Minseo, the strong council woman who people looked up to. She had to do what was best for her people. All Minho saw was beaming red and the cold, lifeless eyes of his mother. “And to think I called you my mother,” Minho murmured sadly, an equally as sad smile adorning his lips before the guards lifted him up and out of the chair and back out the door. 

 

The sewers were as dark as they were told to be. It was cramped, dirty and dark, filled to the brim of the mentally ill, criminals, and homeless. The guards lead him to the deepest part of the sewer system, no more than a few people having the unfortunate fate of staying here for the rest of their days. He had one of the weird, circular homes in the back of the long corridor, his only protection against those around him was a metal door with two locks. 

It shut behind him, the bang echoing off of the walls and leaving Minho in a dark room with nothing but candles. Minho didn’t want them. He didn’t want to be reminded of the decision his mother made. His knees cried at the feeling of the wet stone underneath him but he crawled towards the light of the purple candles, lips hovering above the flame. 

The room went dark along with Minho’s heart. Until the purple neon lights began to slither along the floor and Minho’s eyes began to droop at the mere reflection of his face in the puddles of water. 

 

The glass wall from before was no longer turquoise but purple. The same purple he saw in his vision. The same purple that lined the city windows. The same purple that his mother wore to the trial. The same purple that his city practically bled. 

If Minho were honest, the only reason he even approached the mirror was because he saw a figure slumped up against it, staring off into space. “Chan?” The silver haired boy faced the mirror and saw Minho stood on the other side, scrambling up and desperately planting his palms on the glass. A puff of breath hitched in Minho’s throat and his legs pushed himself forward so he was a few centimeters away from the glass. Their foreheads rested against the glass, a crack being heard. The two sprung away studying the mirror, “It’s to your left,” Minho murmured softly, running his fingertips along the crack gently. It was then that Minho realized that he did not harbor the injuries he had in the real world, but his clothes were equally as dirty as they had been before. “Where are you from? Like what city?” 

Minho cocked his head to the side, finding it amusing that Chan believed they had been from the same world. “We are from different worlds, love. You would not recognize the name,” Minho softly explained, lips twitching up in amusement. A blush spread across Chan’s cheeks and he rubbed his neck in pure and utter embarrassment. Lord, he was an absolute idiot. “Don’t beat yourself up, love. You have no way of knowing, truly. For all I know, you could be off in some far away city past the wasteland.” 

“Wasteland?” 

Minho practically explained everything about his life, all of it sounding normal to him but mind boggling for Chan. The more Minho spoke, the more Chan wanted to believe what he was saying, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t do it. 

“I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

“I still don’t believe this is real,” Chan muttered after awhile of stroking the mirror where Minho finger tips had been. The boy huffed in amusement and moved his hand so it was pressed against the glass where Chan’s cheek would have been; as if he had actually been stroking this boy’s pale skin. 

“I don’t either, but I’m happy you’re here, in this world even if you’re not in the next.” Tears slipped from Chan’s eyes at Minho’s tone of voice. They may have not been touching, there may have been a barrier in between and none of this may have been real, but they were here. 

In this world, even if it’s not the next.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Baby. You’re not empty. You feel empty because you feel lonely. But my love, you’re not lonely. You have me. Even if you live on the side of the road with torn clothes and not a penny in your pocket, you will always have me. So try, my love. Try.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is edited by my lovely best friend, Ren <3 Thanks for tuning into another chapter because I know this is all just one big shit show.
> 
> Moodboard: https://twitter.com/atumun15/status/983459781884153858

Chan felt empty.

When he woke up the next morning being picked up bridal style by BamBam, he felt completely empty. “Am I so disgusting you had to sleep in the floor?” The Thai joked, but there had been a nervous twitch to his tone. He hoped Chan would joke back, throw a witty remark back like he always does. Instead, Chan stares at him blankly, lips moving slowly and voice coming out in long drawls that showed just how sleep deprived Chan had been. 

“You’re hot. I needed to cool down and I fell asleep in the floor.” The younger swallowed thickly, hearing the muscle of his throat move in his ears and his tongue came out to wet his lips but ended up hanging out of the corner of his mouth. Low, heavy pants puffed against BamBam’s collar bone and Chan’s head lolled off to the side and landed on the elder’s shoulder. This unknowingly sparked alarm in BamBam’s head, but he didn’t let it show drastically. 

“How about some breakfast, yeah?” BamBam hummed into the top of Chan’s head, placing the tiniest of kisses there. An equally tiny smile creeped up on Chan’s lips, nodding his head twice before burying it back into BamBam’s shoulder. The elder slowly shifted him down so he was level with the couch and placed him down on the rough, hard cushion. BamBam placed a chaste peck to his burning cheek and heaved himself back into the kitchen in hopes of getting some food into Chan’s system. 

BamBam purposefully made the meals slightly cooler in temperature to help cool Chan’s body down but the younger could only handle so much food at once after not eating for so long. He didn’t even finish half of his bowl before he groaned and set it down, lips tugged into a pout as he weakly massaged his stomach. “You ate more than last night. Progress right?” BamBam hummed, patting Chan’s thigh before carrying the bowls into the kitchen. Chan didn’t utter a word, doing nothing but staring at his reflection in the TV. 

Chan really thought he was going insane. He really believed his mind was making all of this up and he was becoming schizophrenic. This had all been a figment of his imagination, his loneliness affecting him to new degrees. Should he tell BamBam? Chan knew he would look at him as if belonged in an asylum if he explained everything, if he explained what his mind was making up to make sure he was less lonely. It would be dangerous for him to say anything. But what if he really needed help?

Nimble finger tips grazed upon Chan’s jaw and his gaze was shifted to BamBam’s worried one. Chan hadn’t even realized that BamBam sat back down. “What’s wrong? You’ve been acting weird all morning.” Chan gulped underneath the intensity of BamBam’s gaze, flickering his eyes away. He was fully aware he needed to reassure his hyung if he wanted to make it out of this safely. So, he faked his affection partially and leaned into BamBam’s hand, the fakest of soft smiles tugging at his lips. 

“I’m fine, Hyung.” Chan looked to the clock. He had two hours until work but BamBam didn’t need to know that. “I need to get to work, Hyung. I’m sure you have things to do right?” Chan smiled, pecking BamBam on the cheek quickly and rushing out of the room. Once the door shut behind him, a breath fell from his lips along with the smile that resided there. Chan slid along the wood of the door until his bottom hit the floor and he was hit with the overwhelming urge to cry. 

He wanted Minho.

Chan held himself together for the sake of BamBam and well, himself. That didn’t mean he was stable enough to stand up on his own two legs for at least three minutes. He hadn’t been sure where the sudden weakness had come from, but Chan couldn’t even bring himself to crawl towards the dresser to at least grab clothes. He just sat there, breathing deeply and staring at his reflection in the mirror across the room. Knowing that just the mere idea of Minho being through the glass was enough to give the silver haired boy enough strength to lift up his body and grab his work clothes, stumbling over his feet slightly. 

He still didn’t believe any of it, but just the idea of maybe not being lonely was enough to get Chan through the day. He hadn’t realized how greasy his hair had been before when he went to style it and was met with the pleasant feeling of soft, fluffy locks. A content sigh fell from his lips as he continued to run his fingers through the silver strands but stopped abruptly with a thought. Chan wondered if Minho’s hair had been this soft; but then he realized that Minho wasn’t here. He was never going to be here. 

His arms fell to his side limply, bottom lip latched between his teeth to keep his whimpers and cries from echoing off of the walls and potentially hitting BamBam’s ears. Callused, aching fingers gripped at the sink counter weakly before his body went stumbling to the floor, landing with a soft thump. “Channie? You okay?” BamBam’s concerned voice leaked from the cracks of the door with borderline frantic knocks banging against the wood. Chan took in a shaky breath, stabilizing his voice so he didn’t come off as upset as he was. 

“I’m fine. Tripped over a shoe,” Chan trailed off, faking sheepishness and shyness. BamBam’s snort came muffled, the elder muttering something along the lines of typical and went on doing whatever he had been doing before. Puffs of relieving breaths fell from Chan’s lips in a concerningly long chain but he carried on with his schedule. However, the moment he stood up, a pain shot up his ankle and he fell back to the floor. Tears sprung to his eyes as he let his head sling back against the foot of his bed and a deep, shuddering breath fill the air. Chan bit back his whimpers and ignored the pains as he stood up, limping to his dresser. 

Once Chan threw on a dirty white t-shirt, black jeans with too many unintentional holes, and muddy black chuck taylors, he grabbed his black backpack from middle school and packed everything he needed for the work day. Luckily, Chan didn’t carry too much so his backpack only consisted of a black usb drive, sticker covered laptop, portable music production system, and a headset. 

Chan had expected BamBam to stop him on the way out but not for the reason he actually did. “It’s kinda cold, don’t you want to wear a jacket or something?” His fingers clutched at Chan’s bicep softly, dragging him back into the apartment before he could step any farther out the door. The younger looked over his shoulder to face him, eventually turning his whole body so he was only half a foot away. Chan shyly rubbed at the back of his neck, eyes flickering over to the torn and ripped jacket draped over the arm of the couch. 

“The only jacket I have is the one I wore in the crash. But I don’t understand why it’s all torn.” A flicker of realization crossed BamBam’s eyes and the elder crossed his arms over his chest. 

“That doctor didn’t tell you anything did he?” BamBam muttered bitterly. Chan slowly shook his head. “Chan, when that truck hit you, you flew back 20 feet and proceeded to roll another 4 yards. You’re lucky all you have is bruised ribs and a fractured ankle.” BamBam’s eyes darkened considerably and Chan shrunk back. “Speaking of which…,” Chan chuckled nervously, stepping back and his body and soul betraying him when a whimper bounced off of the walls and filled the air between them. 

He couldn’t even get out any sort of reassurance before BamBam surged forward and lifted Chan up and off of the ground. The younger let out a shriek and twined his legs around BamBam’s waist in fear of falling to the ground. BamBam gently placed Chan on the edge of the counter and rested his hands on the younger’s hips. “I don’t want you further injuring yourself. You’re lucky I haven’t taken you back to the hospital, yet.” BamBam pointed his finger accusingly in Chan’s face, watching the boy pale drastically and shake his head. 

“Hospitals cost too much. I don’t have the money-”

“Like I was going to let you pay-”

“Like I’m going to let you pay.” Chan’s voice was rough and sharp, a complete contrast to what it normally had been around BamBam. So different that BamBam looked a bit taken back. Secretly, deep down, Chan hoped that BamBam would yell at him, scream in his face about how big of an idiot he was and leave. But no. His face only softened and he gently cupped his fingers around Chan’s cheeks. No words were exchanged as Chan’s heart felt like it was going to leap out of his throat and BamBam began to stroke his thumb along the corner of Chan’s lips. 

“I just want what’s best for you, baby.” Chan took in a sharp breath when BamBam muttered that out so softly. Why did BamBam have to fall for him? Why couldn’t he have fallen in love with some really pretty idol he could actually be with in the public eye? Chan looked anywhere but at BamBam, unable to bring himself to genuinely look this man in the eye. “Channie. Look at me.” BamBam urged, voice soft but nervous. Instead of giving in, Chan gently took the hem of BamBam’s shirt between his fingers and ran his thumb along the edge. BamBam watched him with sadness evident in his features, Chan resembling a small, vulnerable child that was keeping secrets from him. 

The younger eventually met BamBam’s eyes reluctantly, cocking his head to the side and placing a gentle kiss to the elder’s jawline. For a second, it felt real. But only for a second. Because the same thoughts, the same doubts, always had a way of worming their way to the front of Chan’s mind and taking over. However, he didn’t have the heart to push BamBam away and let the elder do what he knew was going to happen. Their lips met, BamBam’s as plump and soft as they looked. The kiss was nice, but it wasn’t real. Chan faked his movements and sharp intakes of breath for the most part but BamBam seemed into it so Chan didn’t do anything to break away. 

This wasn’t like the old ones they shared. Those had been real. Chan felt like his heart would flutter out of his chest and his ears would be hot and red during those kisses. The cold hard truth was that Chan no longer felt for BamBam and BamBam felt too much for Chan.

It became heated quickly, BamBam tangling his fingers in Chan’s hair and slipping his tongue into his mouth but this had been Chan’s breaking point. He gently placed his palms against BamBam’s chest, nudging him lightly to let him know to stop. BamBam chuckled and pulled away shyly, eyes flickering to the ground. “Sorry... I just really missed those lips,” BamBam murmured in embarrassment, pecking him lightly to prove his point. Chan faked a giggle. 

“I need to get to work, Bam.”

BamBam huffed and tapped at Chan’s ankle. “Let’s wrap it at least.” BamBam whined and shifted away, searching the cabinets for Chan’s first aid kit with Chan’s directions. Eventually, they found a makeshift brace and firmly wrapped it around Chan’s left ankle, BamBam swearing he was going to buy an actual brace for him. Chan just rolled his eyes at that. With a bit of teamwork (which was really just BamBam picking him up), Chan made it back to the ground safely and was given one of BamBam’s jackets before he was allowed to leave. 

Eventually, Chan made it out of the apartment and he felt like he could breathe again. Not 100% clearly, but he hadn’t felt as suffocated as he was before. Chan walked the streets with a limp, trying his best to make it look better than it was. Chan had decided to take the longer route to work today due to him literally having an hour and a half before he had to go in and came along something rather… interesting. There, on the corner of a street nearby, was a mirror shop.

Chan wasn’t sure why everything in his life had to be a damn coincidence but here he was, standing in front of the window on the shop, admiring all of the mirrors on the other side. The whispers from the night before licked at the shell of his ear, drawing him closer and closer to the blue door that led inside. Chan felt like his head was spinning when he stepped inside, being met with the thick smell of sage and lavender. The shop hadn’t been something that Chan was entirely expecting. He assumed it had just been a mirror shop, as odd as it sounded. But really, it had been something so much more… intriguing. It had been almost an underground shop for those invested in witchcraft and voodoo. 

There, at the back of the shop in normal looking clothes, was a familiar boy,and once Chan recognized him, he felt his blood run cold. Kim Seungmin, the younger boy in school everyone told Chan to stay away from because he was ‘weird’ and a ‘freak,’ Because his family was made up of self proclaimed seers, witches and psychics. Chan winced when he realized Seungmin was still in school and was no doubt still tortured just as he was on a daily basis. 

When Seungmin met Chan’s eyes, the younger seemed curious but other than that, they were pretty fucking empty. The blank stare Seungmin offered Chan was enough to send chills down his spine, and Chan wished he could just turn around and walk right out of the store. Instead, he walked further into the store, and his eyes caught the glimmer of a mirror to his left. Chan walked straight up to the wall of mirrors before him, tracing his fingers along the frames and being careful to not touch the glass between. He didn’t want to dirty a product he couldn’t afford to buy. 

“Any of them you find interest in?” Kim Seungmin spoke up from the desk, chin rested in his palm. His sleeve slid down slightly, revealing cuts, bruises, and black ink all in one. Chan’s eyes didn’t stray on the exposed skin for very long, Seungmin noticing his trained gaze and lifting up his sleeve to hide the marks on his skin. Chan gulped and flickered his eyes up to the younger’s shyly. 

“Shouldn’t you be in school?” 

“Ah. So the legendary Bang Chan does remember me.” Seungmin snickered, a devilish smirk evident on his lips. “I work from home now. No sense in staying in a place I’m not wanted right?” Seungmin shrugged like it was nothing and to an extent, Chan almost envied Seungmin. This boy obviously had no problem with being lonely or knowing that someone was out there that absolutely hated his guts. But here Chan was, making up false stories in his head about someone that didn’t exist. Minho’s face was probably just a face his eyes saw briefly and made some huge life around this person that wasn’t true.

“Besides. Old man’s shop isn’t that bad to run. You’re the first slightly sane person to come in for a while.” Oh. Only if Seungmin knew. 

Chan gulped and nodded, glancing back at the mirrors. The whispers continued to grow and sharp pains shot along his temples. Chan bit back the aches, and continued to walk along the wall, unaware of the looks of concern Seungmin was sparing him. The pains seemed to worsen when Chan was met with the sight of a blood red mirror, red flashing along in lighting-like patterns across the mirror and his reflection. Chan felt like his head was going to fall straight off of his neck with the way he was flinging it around so much. “Chan? Chan!” Seungmin’s shrieks were muffled in Chan’s ears, the boy falling to the ground with a thump against the wall of mirrors, shattering the one in the blood red frame. 

 

Why did everything have to be so damn dark? Minho thought with an irritated huff. A black candle rested between his fingertips as he walked the lower corridors of the sewers. It had been exactly two weeks since he was thrown down here and he had to adapt within an hour of being there. Luckily, one of the kinder residences lent him some dark, layered clothing to protect him from the pungent smells and textures along the sewer walls. His outfit consisted of a long sleeve brown shirt, thick denim black jeans, black boots and a black drape that had both a hood and a gator scarf to protect his mouth and nose from contracting any sort of diseases. He looked like a proper thief; one of them. 

With every step Minho took, he felt the metal blade tucked firmly into his waistband, a shiv he had to brawl for a few nights ago. He could still feel the ache of his jaw and busted lip, but that had been covered by the mask of his drape. “Minho!” A voice came from his left, sounding old and rather insane if Minho was completely honest. The boy stopped in his tracks and turned his face to see the same woman who offered him clothes the second day he arrived here, and he offered her an eye smile. The woman waved him into her tiny room that had obviously been her long time home due to the multitude of items inside. “I need you to take these to Taemin.” 

She held up a blood red pouch that presumably held some sort of food item inside. Suran always offered those in the lower regions of the sewers food and supplies when needed. Taemin, however, did not need such supplies so he wondered what was between the food in the pouch. “Sure, halmeoni.” Minho murmured, taking the pouch and tucking it underneath his arm and left the room, Suran shouting her thanks behind him. Minho hadn’t planned on going in Taemin’s direction but he didn’t mind; Taemin was nice to be around… sometimes. 

Minho had been making his way up the steps when he heard screams coming from the upper levels, eyes widening in alarm. Minho was quick on his feet, preparing to break up a fight between residents, but he was met with the heartbreaking sight of white and red between a a pile of black and brown. “What the fuck?” Minho screeched from the end of the hallway where the pile of bodies were just a few feet away. The crowd broke apart and a shivering Lee Felix was in the middle. 

“He’s from the lower levels, look at his clothes,” some of them murmured in fright, but those who were daring enough stepped forward, lunging at this new figure. Minho rolled his eyes and stepped to the side far enough for the man to go running into the wall head first behind him. The bulky man fell to the ground with a grunt, holding his slightly busted skull. Minho quirked an eyebrow up at the other four men, two of them sharing a look. Whimpers suddenly few from the body on the ground and for a few moments, all Minho saw was red. His arms went flying strategically, blade in hand that drew blood left and right. Next thing he knew, he was straddling the last man on the ground, blade just above the skin covering his heart. “Minho! Don’t!”

Felix’s voice was the only thing that snapped Minho out of it, the younger now sitting up with one of the deeper residents helping him. Taemin and a few others gawked at him from a few yards away, Minho huffing and lifting himself up and off of the ground. He ignored all of the stares he was getting and made his way to Felix, who was still shivering on the ground. The elder of the two tugged down his face mask and kneeled down to inspect Felix’s wounds. “Did they break anything?” Minho asked so softly that no one but Felix heard. The boy shook his head. 

Minho let out a deep sigh and stood up, hoisting Felix onto his back and allowing the younger to wrap around him like a koala. Minho was just about to walk back to his room to make sure he didn’t do something stupid when he remembered the heavy sack attached to his hip. He huffed and brought out the blood red bag and threw it to the ground. “These are for you, Taemin.” Minho smiled sweetly before letting his face fall coldly and walking away from the blood red apples now scattered on the floor.

“How the fuck do you see?” Felix grumbled after a while, noticing that Minho was one of the only ones that didn’t carry a candle around. Remembering that he had dropped his damn candle a few stairs up, a groan left his lips. That was the last candle he had left. 

“Fuck. My candle,” Minho whined like a small child, knocking his head back and accidently head butting Felix in the chin. Felix let out a whimper and stroked his chin with a pout, “Sorry, sorry Felix-su,” Minho apologized gently, rubbing the back of his hood against the boys chin before lifting his face mask back up. “We’re going to have to make a stop before we can talk okay?” Felix nodded once and rested his cheek against the back of Minho’s head. 

Pungent smells filled Felix nostrils and the boy sneezed right into Minho’s ear, earning a thigh slap from the elder. Minho snickered lightly when Felix whined but stopped abruptly when he saw Suran standing outside her door, lantern in hand. “I heard screams. Is everything okay?” she asked, worry swarming in the pits of her eyes. Minho offered her a reassuring eye smile and nodded his head, tilting his head towards the shy figure propped up on his back. 

“Need to cash in a favor.” 

The woman hurried them inside and shut the door behind her, telling Minho to lay Felix down on the bed roll by the fire illuminating the room. She hobbled over to her table in the corner with various ingredients and bottles scattered on top of it. Minho was careful with Felix, sitting down next to him and allowing Felix to rest his head in his lap. “Why are you here, Felix? Do you know how dangerous it is down here? If I hadn’t shown up, you would be dead right now,” Minho hissed, but it hadn’t been in irritation. Felix knew Minho wasn’t angry at him; he was angry at the situation he had been thrown in. So, he slowly nodded to show that he did indeed understand. 

“I had to see you. It’s been so… lonely,” Felix’s voice cracked. Minho knew Felix considered Minho as a best friend, brother even, and with Minho gone, Felix was left with nothing. The elder didn’t say anything afterwards, only running his fingers through Felix’s hair. “Come back, Hyung. Let me talk to the council, vouch for you or something–,” Minho gently raised his hand to cup Felix’s jaw, stroking his chin with the pad of his thumb. 

“I can’t do that, Lix. I have my own agenda to take care of” 

Felix’s lip wobbled, tears glazing over, “Hyung.. Can’t I be a part of that agenda?” Minho wanted to say of course, Felix could be a part of that agenda. He was always going to be a part of that agenda. Felix was his little brother and he was always going to care for him. But Suran had been in mid-treatment of Felix’s wounds when there were screams from down the corridor, halting their speaking. Suran stopped moving completely, staring at the fire before flickering her eyes over to Minho, shaking her head when he went go stand up. 

The screams stopped, a deafening silence following. Four, synchronized knocks came at Suran’s door and the woman hobbled towards the door, speaking in harsh whispers when she cracked it open. “Lee Minho. I need to know where he is,” Minho recognized the voice along with the face when Suran opened the door suddenly, revealing a hooded figure dressed in an outfit similar to Minho’s but tan. “Ah. Making my life a lot easier, Lee,” The figure spoke before stepping inside and closing the door. 

“Could you have been any sneakier, Changbin? I’m sure the whole wing heard those two idiots!” Suran hissed suddenly, waving her arms in the air while Changbin looked around, turning and looking through her viles before stuffing a few in his pockets. “Everytime. Always taking my things. I make extras for this reason you know.” The woman bickered, pointing a finger accusingly in his direction. 

“You know I can’t get some of this out there, Eomma. It’s hard to heal your people when you’re left with little to no resources.” Suran was Changbin’s mother? Minho and Felix watched the two of them interact as if they were at a tennis match, rather gobsmacked by the whole ordeal. “That’s not even why I’m here, Eomma,” Changbin grumbled suddenly, turning his head to face Minho but freezing when he saw Felix. “You never said there was another person.” 

“I tried to tell you-”

“Well, now he has to come with us. He’s seen my face.” Changbin cut off his mother quickly, staring Felix down until the boy was practically melting into the ground. Felix began to shiver, shaking his head quickly while muttering over and over again about how he won’t tell anyone but Changbin had approached him far too quickly and squatted down so he was eye level with the council member’s son, placing a hand roughly to his cheek. 

“Changbin,” his mother trailed off in disappointment when he removed his hand, a blood red symbol apparent on Felix’s cheek. 

“Now he can’t try and run away. You’re coming with us, kid,” Changbin graveled and stood back up, offering them both his hand. Minho took it without hesitation but Felix… Felix smacked his hand away and lifted himself up, smirking when he realized he was taller than this asshole who barged in and fucked up his entire life. Changbin bit his tongue for the sake of his mother and turned on his feet, walking out the door. Before Minho could leave, Suran grabbed him by the wrist and handed him a backpack. “That should be enough to get you through the trek back, but Changbin will explain afterwards. I know he can come off as harsh, but listen to him okay? That’s the only way you’ll survive.” 

With that, they followed Changbin, seeing him come out from Minho’s room holding a necklace between his fingers. Minho’s nose snarled up at the mere sight of the symbol that represented everything he had been for all 18 years he’s lived. “Is this anything important? Everything else looks pretty useless.” Minho tore it from his hands and slammed it to the ground, crushing it underneath his boots and ignoring the surprised looks on Changbin and Felix’s faces.

“Let’s go” Minho hissed, eyes narrowed in Changbin’s direction. The shorter man huffed in amusement before digging through the bag on his back and tugging out a tan drape just like his and Minho’s. Felix barely caught it when Changbin threw it in his direction and just out of pure and utter spite, Felix didn’t put it on. But Minho wasn’t about to put up with petty games between the two, so was quick to snap at the younger. “Put it on. You’re going to want it down here. Especially if we’re going deeper.” So Felix swallowed his pride and tugged on the drape, pulling both the hood and mask up and being met with the pleasant smell of sage. 

Minho didn’t bother taking any of his things in the room, knowing that some other poor soul would find use in them, so followed Changbin deeper into the sewers. “The great thing about the lower levels is that none of the guards check them, and no one is brave enough to dare go that far down,” Changbin informed, voice echoing off of the walls along with the sound of rushing water above them. 

“Are we below the cities main water system?” Felix inquired in awe, surprised they had moved across the city so quickly in such a short span of time. Changbin nodded once. 

“You get your water from the stream below, but the water is infected with a variety of different viruses. You’re lucky you haven’t died yet,” Changbin throws in so casually that Felix was more taken back by his tone rather than the information given. Felix quickly pushed past Minho and started walking at Changbin’s side, asking so many questions that Minho thought Changbin was gonna turn around and scream at him for talking so much. But Changbin didn’t do any such a thing, and Minho was rather impressed. Very few people had patience for Felix’s endless questions, but Changbin answered them calmly. Both city boys found it interesting that an outsider knew more about their city then they did. 

“Shield your eyes, Lee. You’ve been down here awhile so your eyes are probably sensitive,” Changbin warned when they reached a metal door with a wheel attached. “Help me pull this.” Felix grabbed one side of the wheel and Changbin grabbed the other, both moving it in the desired direction. With a huff and a pull, the door opened with a loud screech that rattled the walls around them. The three were met with a bright light, Minho rather surprised that dawn had just passed. “We have exactly 15 minutes to get to that dune in the distance. You think you can manage?” Changbin broke through their gobsmacked silence. 

Minho was actually going to get to leave. The city was merely a few feet behind him along with the life he was sworn into. Minho could finally be free. “Lets go.” 

They traveled the sandy dunes before them, no sort of structure from the old world in sight. Everything seemed… empty. On their way out, Changbin had two sleds hidden in a bush, Changbin and Felix unfortunately having to share one due to them being the smallest while Minho got one all to himself. But the heat of the wasteland was unbearable. Due to Minho’s thick, dark clothes, he had been suffering greatly. But he couldn’t remove the layers because of the harsh winds that left burns behind, so he was stuck with having to bear with the heat. 

They had made it to the tallest sand dune when Changbin stopped abruptly at the top and let the other two catch up, Felix looking as if he was going to pass out from pure exhaustion. “Are we there yet?” Felix croaked from behind Changbin, wiping his sweat away with the back of his hand. Changbin smirked and pointed far into the distance, the city boys noticed multiple specs that were no doubt shelters. “Is that…” 

“That right there is Hwa-Su. We won’t get there by nightfall so we’ll have to camp–“ Changbin was abruptly cut off by a loud groan from Minho. Sharp, undeniable pains spread throughout his head like lightning, a ringing in his ears. “Minho?” Changbin asked, inching closer as he tried to help. But Minho went stumbling down the sand dune towards the city with red streaks lining his vision and Felix screaming after him. 

 

This time the glass was red. Everything that hadn’t been black around them was the color of blood. They seemed to have appeared at the same time, Minho rushing over first. Chan seemed hesitant to approach the glass but did so anyway at the desperation and appearance of Minho. He looked far rougher than he had last time but there was this certain strength to him that Chan admired greatly. “What happened? You seem… changed.” Chan murmured quietly, keeping his hands away from the glass while Minho did nothing but stroke the surface. 

“I am sorry for not being here these past few weeks. I have not been able to get more than an hour of sleep at a time.” Chan frowned at this statement, cocking his head to the side in confusion. 

“I saw you… I saw you last night?” Chan murmured, lips folded into a pout. Minho wanted to run his fingers along the pouted lips, hell, he just wanted to touch Chan in general; He looked so vulnerable. Minho hummed and ran his fingers over where Chan’s hand rested at his side, tugging down his hood and mask to push his fingers through his hair. If Chan was honest, Minho looked to ethereal to be real. There was no way this man existed. 

“Time.. Time must travel faster here then there. That is the only explanation I can think of. Please come closer. It feels like it’s been so long since i’ve seen your face, love.” The pure and utter desperation Minho felt was thick in his voice. Chan could no longer resist and surged forward with so much sudden urgency, it shocked Minho to an extent. 

“It’s been ten hours since I’ve seen you last and I’m pretty sure you’re the only thing I think about most of the time” Chan hushed out faintly, not at all weirded out by how intimate these two seemed to be at the time. This has been around since the beginning; the feelings have been hovering in the air since all of this started. They needed each other. 

“It’s been a little over two weeks so imagine what it’s been like for me,” Minho joked lightly, everything about his voice airy but thick with love. “You’re so beautiful. You’re taking care of yourself, yes? Drinking and eating enough?” Chan couldn’t lie, not to Minho. So, he shook his head shamefully. “My love, please. For me? I couldn’t imagine falling asleep at night knowing you’re not going to be there.” 

They spoke in hushed whispers, shoulders pressed against the glass as they sat down on the cold surface beneath them, but as Minho gazed at the elder through the glass he realized that Chan looked lost. “Tell me about your world. You look so much more different from the last time I saw you,” Chan’s voice cracked, not daring to look Minho in the eyes and resting his cheek against the glass. Minho inched forward, the glass fogging up from the close proximity, but Minho placed his lips where Chan’s ear had been beyond the glass. 

“The community I was apart of forced me to live in the sewers.” Chan snapped his head up, ready to fire question after question but Minho continued before he could, “But I am okay. I had to become adapted. It was so dangerous down there Chan… I’m lucky I’m not dead.” Minho wanted to lie and offer Chan reassurance, but everything within him told him not to lie to Chan. It wouldn’t end well. 

“A-Are you still down there?” Chan choked out, sniffling once. Minho smiled softly and shook his head. 

“No. I’m somewhere in the wasteland now.” Minho murmured, sounding far more peaceful than he had before. Chan wanted to be worried, and he was. But the way Minho sounded so at ease, so content with that particular situation kept him from voicing those worries. “I can practically feel the sand in my clothes now,” Minho grumbled, shaking the black layered clothing on his body as if there were piles and piles of sand within each layer. Chan giggled. 

And while that giggle didn’t seem like much, that had been the realest giggle that had escaped his mouth in a very long time. And somehow, someway, Minho knew that. “My love, promise me something,” Chan’s breath hitched in his throat, “promise me that you will live. That you will stay true to yourself and breathe. Talk to people. Love people. You deserve to be happy, my love.” Chan couldn’t withhold his breakdown, curling up on himself and letting the tears fall. 

Minho let a few of his own tears fall as Chan began to speak, “I-I can’t do it, Minho. I wake up every morning and ask myself why am I’m still here. I can’t fake anything anymore. I feel so empty… Why am I so empty, Minho?” Minho weighed the question, wanting nothing more than to break the glass and take Chan into his arms but the only thing he could offer were his words. And for Chan… that had been enough. 

“Baby. You’re not empty. You feel empty because you feel lonely. But my love, you’re not lonely. You have me. Even if you live on the side of the road with torn clothes and not a penny in your pocket, you will always have me. So try, my love. Try.” 

Chan decided that he would try. He was going to try to live and breathe like Minho wanted him to. And Minho decided that he was always going to make sure Chan took care of himself. 

They mutually decided that red was their favorite color because while it represented blood shed and anger… it also represented love, and the first sign of the wall maybe collapsing when their lips pressed to the glass and a lightning like crack ran diagonally across it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It felt as though the universe was allowing them to be themselves for a bit. Allowing them to relive their innocence...together."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!
> 
> This was edited by my lovely best friend, Ren <3
> 
> This chapters a whole mess. 
> 
> Anyways, I'm sorry for not posting much on the one shot side, it's been a rough two weeks as my motivation to do anything is non existent. 
> 
> I should either have a Changlix au, Bamchan au, 2Jin au, or Woolix au out at some point in the next week or so (hopefully)

Time and time again, Chan was proven to be wrong in hoping for a better life. Every day after Chan woke up in the back of Seungmin’s shop, he stopped in exactly 45 minutes before he was supposed to be at work and bought a mirror. Chan kept telling himself it was to make up for breaking the mirror with the blood red frame and passing out in the middle of his shop. But as the varied sized and shaped mirrors began to pile up in the corners of his apartment, even Chan couldn’t believe the lies he was telling. 

All of this had been for Minho. 

And while Chan had an increasingly hard time believing Minho was real, he decided he would much rather live in a world where Minho ‘existed’ rather than the harsh reality of his actual life. So even when Chan realized that even he was lying to himself, his daily schedule didn’t change one bit. 

It was exactly 9:15 when the familiar chimes sounded at the door of the Kim’s family shop, Seungmin not even bothering to look up from his phone. “Morning, Hyung.” Chan hummed in acknowledgement, making a beeline for the wall of mirrors to his left. He studied every single frame with interest, keeping the weight of the money in his pocket in mind and choosing the cheapest mirror he could find. It was small, a gold painted trim with specs of orange underneath. It looked as if it had been sanded down or been roughed up one too many times. 

But Chan never minded. Anything for Minho. The silver haired boy approached the front desk and coughed to gather Seungmin’s attention, who was still pinned to his phone. “This is your 11th mirror...” Seungmin trailed off. He hadn’t come off as judgemental, as he was more curious than anything. It made the younger more comfortable knowing Chan was buying mirrors and not some of the more.. questionable objects in the shop. Chan laughed nervously. 

“Yeah… I need them for a project.” It was a valid reason, but Seungmin didn’t buy it for a second. He didn’t pry though; Seungmin would look into it later once Chan had left. Seungmin held out his hand for the desired money and Chan nervously tugged out the money and counted it out, wincing when he realized he wouldn’t have enough money for lunch today. Seungmin squinted his eyes when Chan reluctantly offered up the money, rolling his eyes and shoving it away. 

“Just take it. My parents haven’t been home for two weeks. Not like they’ll notice.” Seungmin insists, pushing the money back towards Chan when the elder didn’t take it back. Chan wasn’t sure if he was more uneasy with the fact that Seungmin’s parents hadn’t been home or that Seungmin was giving him the mirror, but he decided pretty quickly that it had been the first. 

“You’re home alone?” Seungmin was rather taken back by the concern in Chan’s tone but didn’t act on it in the slightest. All he did was merely shrug like it had been nothing. It wasn’t like he wasn’t used to it, even if it had been lonely at times. Chan nibbled on his lower lip, knowing he shouldn’t ask but he wasn’t comfortable with this 16 year old staying at home by himself for more than a few nights. “Would you mind if I hung out here after work? It’s lonely at my apartment.” It really hadn’t been because BamBam was there, but if Chan was honest, he really didn’t want to be around BamBam right now. 

A flicker of innocence flashed in Seungmin’s eyes, a wide smile spreading over his lips. But the innocence disappeared about as quickly as it had appeared. “This isn’t some sort of joke is it? Some drawn out plan to make me feel like shit?” Seungmin spat out defensively and while Chan was caught off guard, the elder felt awful more than anything. This boy in front of him had obviously been through his fair share of shit and was so fucked up by others that he genuinely didn’t believe that Chan wanted to be his friend. 

Chan didn’t like that he saw himself in Seungmin. Because while Chan had his issues and knew he’d forever be lonely, that didn’t mean Seungmin had to be the same. 

So, the elder offered him the most genuine smile he could muster and hugged Seungmin from over the counter, “I want to be your friend, Seungmin. You’re chill for a 16 year old.” Seungmin smiled to himself shyly and rubbed at the nape of his neck. “Alright. I’ll see you. Remember to do your coursework!” Chan exclaimed as he left the shop, backing out through the door and shooting Seungmin a wave before disappearing completely. 

Seungmin waited until Chan was five minutes away before flipping the sign at the front to say it was closed and locking the door, racing into the back room. He dug out a pack of matches from one of the drawers and grabbed almost every candle in the store, surrounding himself with the sticks and jars. He lit every single candle until the room was well lit in what would have been pitch black. He sat himself down in the very middle of the assortment of candles, crossing his legs and letting his body melt into the ground just as the wax of the candles.

Every element of life itself swirled around him once his mind cleared and his heart slowed to a steady beat, feeling mother nature herself stroke her fingers along the edges of his face. The boy had to know; he had to see what Chan had been so scared of. He could sense the elder’s fear from miles away, the loneliness and abandonment. Chan’s very soul seeped the negative, depressing ways of life, and Seungmin needed to know why. 

Unknowingly, a mixture of words in both greek and latin came tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop them, letting his body yield to the spirits and life forces around him. His head snapped back, mouth falling agape as his body went limp. It felt as if he was floating in the middle of the room, eyes as white as snow. Flashes of a beautiful face ran through his head, turquoise, purple, and red tinting the multiple images of this man’s face. But when Seungmin saw the glass, the familiar wall that was between the real world and the mind, his heart stopped beating for a moment. 

Chan was one of them. 

 

The exact moment Chan stepped into work with the mirror clutched between his fingers, he just knew today wasn’t going to be a good day. He unlocked the studio door and briefly smiled at his partner, Han Jisung before setting his bag down at his desk along with the mirror. Chan could feel Jisung looking at him in interest, not at all surprised that when he turned to face the younger, he was already a foot away and sitting in his chair. “This is literally the 9th time you’ve came into work with a mirror. What could you possibly need this for, Hyung?” Jisung chided, taking the mirror and running his fingers along the frame gently. 

Chan was quick to wince and rip the mirror out of Jisung’s hands before he broke anything. “Don’t worry about it.” Chan snapped and placed it gently against the desk drawers and whispering under his breath, “Sorry, Minho.” Chan had thought he said it quietly enough that Jisung wouldn’t hear, but the younger had heard it, and was now watching Chan with not only concern but curiosity. He didn’t know who this Minho was or why Chan was buying so many mirrors, but he wanted to know. 

“Seriously, Hyung. Your apartment must be a damn mess with all the mirrors.” Jisung joked, rolling back over to his desk and sifting through all the papers and music sheets. The two worked for a company that did music and dance production for rising rookie artists and it was fun at times, but it didn’t pay well and their work was never claimed as theirs. It was always taken by a higher producer that was too lazy to make his own music. 

Chan grabbed an eraser and threw it at the back of Jisung’s head, cackling when Jisung began to whine and rub at his head. “Don’t disrespect me or my apartment. It may be messy but it’s still where I live,” Chan scolded with a small smile before turning to face the equipment in front of him. Chan fished the USB drive from his bag,carefully placed it where he knew he would find it, and began to sift through his music sheets until he found what he had been working on the day before. 

The two worked in a silence they normally found themselves in, too entranced with the production of their music to notice the knocks coming at the door. The boy on the other side of the door huffed and swung open the studio door with a loud bang, backpack hung off his shoulders and a tray of coffee in his hands. “You two are the worst.” Yang Jeongin whined and sat the coffee down on the table by the door, grabbing a piece of paper and rolling it up to hit Jisung on the back of the head when he still didn’t notice his boyfriend’s presence. 

Jisung let out a loud, shrilling shriek that ultimately drug Chan too out of his trance and they both whirled around to see the impatient, 16 year old baby faced demon himself. “Oh. Hey Angel,” Jisung beamed, rolling forward in his chair and circling his arms around the boys waist only to snuggle his head into the younger’s tummy. 

Jeongin struggled to stop a blush from spreading across his cheeks, butshyly turned his head to hide it when he couldn’t prevent it. But Jisung noticed and proceeded to tease him about his crimson cheeks,earning weak hits from the younger in the process. “Yah! I’ll stop bringing coffee and food for you if you don’t stop,” Jeongin threatened,successfully gathering Chan’s attention when the boy threw another eraser at Jisung’s head, muttering about how he needed to stop because that was the only free food he received during the day. “See? Do it for your friend if you can’t do it for me… your boyfriend.” 

Chan couldn’t stop snickering at Jisung’s gobsmacked face, the squirrel like boy obviously caught off guard. “Why am I being cornered?” Jisung whined like a small child, lips drawn into a pout. However, Jeongin was quick to peck the pout away, giggling cutely when Jisung made a noise of not only surprise but contentment. Chan groaned in exaggeration and swiveled his chair back around to face his screen with his headset back on. However, a coffee and an egg and cheese bagel was swung around his face and Chan could no longer resist the maknae. The elder snatched his food out of the boy’s hands and swiveled back around so he could attack Jeongin with his constricting hugs. The youngest of the trio began to screech like a banshee and shoved Chan away. 

 

They all calmed down after that, a comfortable silence settling over the three of them as Jeongin’s eyes caught sight of the mirror leaning against Chan’s desk, a frown forming on the pink of his lips. Chan was completely oblivious to the whispering between Jisung and Jeongin for the next hour and a half, assuming they were just being flirty and sickeningly coupley as always. However, the silver haired boy was the topic of their discussions, the two not daring to go anywhere above a whisper even after Chan left the office. 

“Do you think he’s one of us?” Jeongin whispered quietly, tracing his finger tips along the collar of Jisung’s shirt. The elder seemed to weigh the possibility, eyeing the mirror attached to the back wall where he could see the back of Jeongin’s head and torso. Jisung seemed sure, but so unsure all the same. “The mirrors… I know I nearly went insane but never to the point where he’s at already.” 

“We don’t know if that’s the situation, angel, and even if it is, we both know how Chan is. He’s been lonely his whole life. Whatever this is makes him feel less alone, barriers or not.” Jisung hummed quietly, unable to stop his hands from massaging the softest of circles into Jeongin’s lower back. The younger seemed pretty convinced that Chan was one of them, those who could access and break the barriers, but Jisung believed otherwise. “Besides. Changbin’s been monitoring the barriers since it all spiraled out of control.” 

“But when was the last time you spoke to Changbin?”

 

Chan had enough decency to stop by a restaurant on the way back to the shop, and he picked up enough food for both him and Seungmin that didn’t completely lighten his pocket either. However, the rain began to poor harshly from the sky, thunder rumbling amongst the clouds above angrily, and when Chan reached the shop, the front door was locked. Chan frantically knocked against the glass, gathering the attention from the boy in the back who was sifting through all of his things. Seungmin’s head snapped open as curses began to slip from his mouth and he tried his best to not make the back room more of a mess than it already was.

Seungmin came bolting out from the back, keys fidgeting in his twitching hands. “Sorry Hyung!” He apologized once he opened the glass door, ushering Chan inside. The elder shivered and dripped with water, but he still offered Seungmin a warm smile that still caught Seungmin completely off guard. “I’ll get you some clothes” The younger flushed and escaped into the back room while Chan stood in the middle of the store, shivering his ass off. Seungmin peeped his head out a few moments later, motioning for him to follow him. 

Chan gaped around when he stepped through the colorful curtain, piles and piles of books and papers scattered about with odd knicknacks. “There’s a bathroom down the hall and to your left so you can change.” Seungmin pointed to the right back corner of the room as he returned back to the front to grab the things he’d seton the counter. Chan was quick to lock himself in the bathroom and strip himself of his soaking wet clothes. Surprisingly, the clothes Seungmin had lent fit quite well. 

The nosiness that nagged at the edges of his brain didn’t go unnoticed as he looked around the back room. He hadn’t meant to, but the curiosity was just too overwhelming for him to ignore it. The piles and piles of books and papers were intriguing enough as it was, but there was this particular book, orange with gold writing along the bind that whispered in his ears. The closer he got, the harsher and louder the whispers became, nipping at the shell of his ear. “Chan?” His fingers were about to graze upon the rough coating of the cover when Seungmin peeped his head through with a frown etched into his lips. 

Guilt was evident in the shaggy haired boy’s face as he backed away from the book and the whispers faded into thin air. “Sorry, Sorry. There’s just a lot of interesting things in here.” Chan murmured with the shyest of smiles. Seungmin eyed Chan and the book he had been creepily hovering above before, cocking his head to the side with a smirk. Chan didn’t like the knowing look in the younger’s eyes; it was as if Seungmin knew everything, and that scared Chan shitless. 

“You should read that book. It’s good.” Seungmin pointed to the orange book with gold writing with a smirk before disappearing back into the front of the shop.

 

Stomach full and body dry and warm, Chan made his way back to the apartment with a slight pep to his step and a partial smile lingering on his lips. Seungmin was like a breath of fresh air, someone who didn’t look at Chan and pity him. Jisung and Jeongin may have not been up front about it, but it was rather clear they took it upon themselves to take care of Chan when he took them under his wing. Chan hated pity. 

With a jingle and click, the front door to his apartment swung open and the only light illuminating in the small complex was the light from the tv. BamBam was laying down on the couch, fading in and out of sleep. Chan frowned when he realized that BamBam was forcing himself awake when he was just on the edge of sleep. The elder was about to sit up when Chan walked through the door, but Chan was quick to lean over the edge of the couch and comb his fingers through his messy hair, “Sh. Get some sleep, Bam,” Chan coaxed, pecking his nose gently and pushing him back down on the couch. 

BamBam grumbled like a small child but didn’t hesitate to sink into the couch and allow sleep to take over. Chan smiled sadly down at his childhood friend and made his way to the bedroom, placing the mirror against the wall next to a purple framed one. He stroked his fingers along the sides with a warmer smile and threw off his bag so he could dress into far more comfortable clothes. He weighed the idea of joining BamBam on the couch, but decided he wanted to be held, even if it was by someone he didn’t love. 

He padded into the living room shyly, blanket draped over his shoulders. BamBam must have sensed his presence because his arms fell open lazily, and Chan didn’t hesitate to practically throw himself down onto BamBam’s chest. The sleepy boy began to cough dramatically, acting as if he couldn’t breathe, but a quick swat at his chest from Chan put a stop to his childish antics quickly. “Where have you been? It’s almost midnight.”

Chan smiled to himself warmly.

“Met up with an old friend.”

 

Minho felt like his lungs were throbbing when he awake from his slumber, eyes flickering open to be met with the many, many stars above. The crackle and pop of a fire and the screeching sound of rock on metal reached Minho’s ears as he rolled over, coming face to face with a sleeping Felix. The boy looked far more distressed than he should have been and Minho couldn’t help but run his fingers along Felix’s highlighted cheeks. Felix seemed to relax at just the mere graze of Minho’s fingertips, unknowingly inching closer to Minho’s chest. Minho didn’t reject Felix at all, only tugging him closer into his warm embrace and breathing in the scent of lavender and honey. 

With Felix now buried into his chest, Minho could see over him and met the dark eyes of Changbin, hood and mask down and sharpening the many knives placed neatly on a red cloth at his feet. “I see you’re awake,” Changbin muttered quietly, attempting to keep his voice low so he didn’t wake Felix. “Nearly gave him a heart attack.” He motioned with his head to the boy in Minho’s arms. Minho chuckled, sounding breathy and exhausted as he began to run his fingers through the slightly strawberry blonde locks. “Are you guys…?” Changbin trailed off awkwardly, coughing lowly. “It’s okay if you are. Our people aren’t in any position to judge another-”

Minho cut Changbin off with a soft giggle. “No, no. He’s practically my little brother. We grew up together,” the eldest of the three explained with a certain fondness Changbin couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t the same fondness Han had for I.N. nor was it the same fondness his mother held for him. It could have been the fondness of a brother, yes, but it felt as though it had been so much more than that. “Why?” Minho broke the silence, escaping the koala-like grip Felix had and sitting up, allowing the younger to place his head on one of his thighs while the other was propped up due to his bent knee. 

Changbin didn’t want to answer. How was he to say that the sandy haired, city boy made his heart flutter every time he smiled, or that his unending questions were his favorite thing in the world? Changbin wasn’t supposed to have feelings like this, but the barriers… Felix was his, whether Changbin liked it or not. But he couldn’t tell that to Minho. No. It was too soon. So Changbin just shrugged and glanced down at his last (already shined) knife and continued to sharpen and polish it to avoid any sort of other conversation over the topic. It was obvious what Changbin had been doing, however, as Minho cocked his head to the side and studied him with a knowing smirk. 

Minho didn’t pry. There wasn’t a point. “What time do you think it is?” Minho asked, stretching his arms and looking up at the sky with a yawn. The stars in the sky out here twinkled and shone with a certain trueness that Minho has never seen in the 18 years he has lived. Back in the city, the stars above seemed just as fake as everything else in the system, as if they too had been created for the sake of making the city as perfect as it was supposed to be. For Minho, he felt closer to Chan when he looked up at the stars and saw the same shiny glint he saw in the depths of Chan’s eyes. 

Changbin hummed and drew Minho’s attention back down to the world. “Few hours til sunrise maybe?” Changbin glanced up at the sky, watching the biggest, red moons slowly descend into the horizon, the others not far behind. “When we reach Hwa-Su, you might receive weird looks. You’re new, weird faces that people haven’t seen in a very long time, if not before. They won’t get hostile, but don’t egg them on either. We know how to kill,” Changbin warned, placing the final knife on the red cloth with the same symbol that was put on Minho’s cheek the first night they met right in the middle. 

Minho watched Changbin hide the various knives among his clothes before he stood up, stretching and popping his bones. “Keep watch will you? I need a few hours,” Changbin muttered, throwing Minho a sheathed knife and lying down on the bare sand, back turned. Minho huffed and rolled his eyes, amusement sparkling in his eyes at the idea of Changbin not even giving him a chance to answer. Minho didn’t mind though – it only offered him more time to think and weigh the whole idea of Chan. 

The elder worried Minho to new levels. Chan hadn’t been a burden, per se, but he sure as hell gave Felix a run for his money with the amount of stress and worry he created for Minho. But it hadn’t just been Chan’s state that took up a good portion of Minho’s thoughts. It had been everything else. The way his eyes crinkled when he smiled or laughed, his dimples, the way his lips curled in on themselves when he was sad, his fluffy, but messy, curly hair. Everything about Chan had Minho’s head whirling and to a certain extent, it worried Minho. 

Chan was in an entire different universe, if he was even real. Minho couldn’t even touch him, let alone be with him; but Minho couldn’t resist Chan. Despite how little Minho really knew about Chan, there was something about him that he knew tied them together. Something that he would be a fool to mess with. It was unbelievably hard to resist him, and that was where Minho needed to establish barriers. 

But for now, Minho would enjoy the little time he had with Chan until he could find a way for them to be together. 

 

The sun rose into the sky a few hours later, Changbin waking up just as it peeked over the horizon, and Felix woke up not long after due to a swift kick to the shin from Changbin. Felix began to grumble in his sleep and made grabby motions to Changbin’s legs and Minho swore the poor man would have been pulled to the ground and become a human teddy if his reflexes weren’t quick. “Get up, pretty boy,” Changbin snarled and began to kick the remains of the fire into the ground, covering any sort of tracks that might have signaled a presence there. 

Felix reluctantly got up, popping his back with a groan but a spark in his eyes that scared both Changbin and Minho. “You think I’m pretty, Changbin?” Felix wiggled his eyebrows sleepily, pulling up his mask and hood to block his poor face from the blowing sands. Changbin rolled his eyes and grabbed the leather pack on his back and dug through it, digging out three pairs of goggles. 

“Shut up, pretty boy. You’re going to want these. The sand only gets worse as the sun rises.” They walked for hours, Felix complaining endlessly about the aches in the balls of his feet, back and calves. After about two hours of the same amount of complaining, Changbin got tired of hearing it and stopped abruptly and ordered Felix to hop on his back or ‘so help me god, I will give you something worse to complain about.’ And well… Felix being Felix didn’t hesitate to jump on Changbin’s back and make his comment suggestive at exactly the same time. 

It was a miracle Changbin didn’t throw Felix into the sand and leave him there based on the constant whisper of questions into the shell of Changbin’s ear. But they made it through, eventually reaching the thriving city a few hours before sunset. 

The city of Hwa-Su was much larger than it seemed from miles and miles away. Of course, Minho had expected such a thing, but as he glanced around the well populated town, he noticed the many trenches that led to even more homesteads dug into the ground and the high up buildings connected by bridges covered in colorful red drapes. The city still seemed so much larger than what it had seemed. The streets didn’t have definite paths outlined by stone like the capital city, but based on the people walking in the same general ways, it was obvious they had been established.

The people seemed friendly with one another, all wearing the exact same outfit as Changbin, but some had been made of the same red drapes hung across the bridges or a lighter tan, nearly white. They talked amongst themselves, kids running around with animals that Minho and Felix had only seen in books. Changbin studied Felix’s face of pure and utter intriguement with a swelling feeling in his heart, the boy having to bite back a smile so he didn’t give off the wrong impression. “You can tour the city later okay? We need to get you to a cool place so you can properly rest.” Changbin placed a hand on the small of Felix’s back, shoving him forward and nearly sending him stumbling to the ground. 

Felix whirled around, a fire in his eyes as he inched forward. The two were face to face now, Felix’s nostrils flared and eyes blazing. Minho watched from close by, ready to separate them if a fight broke out. But Changbin only retaliated with a smirk, crossing his arms over his chest and even daring to pivot his head closer. “What you gonna do, pretty boy? Hm?” Minho saw the way Felix’s eyes softened, the way the tips of his ears turned red, and the way his body relaxed at the mere playful tone Changbin used with him. Minho saw it all, and he saw it all with the biggest smirk on his face. 

“Can you two cut it out? It’s hot.” Minho broke the two up, watching them jump apart when they realized their close proximity. Felix glared at Minho harshly when he saw the smirk on the elder’s lips and began to shove at his chest when Changbin turned and walked away. Minho cackled quietly and grabbed Felix by his upper arm so they could follow Changbin, who was retreating away rather quickly. “Ah. Why you walking so fast, Binnie?” Minho snickered, hooking his arm around Changbin’s. 

The younger grumbled and shook Minho off, trailing down the steps that lead farther into the depths of the city. The lower they got, the cooler it became and Minho finally felt like he wasn’t being suffocated by the hot air around him. On the second level of the three present, Changbin stopped in front of a door made out of a material Felix and Minho didn’t recognize and knocked against said door. A soft voice from inside called out, signaling for them to come in, and Changbin didn’t hesitate to swing open the door. 

Inside was a large, circular room. Multiple beds were situated against the clay walls, some occupied with sickly residents of the city. Hovered over a little girl was a sandy haired man placing a damp cloth to the base of her neck with a gentle, almost paternal smile. The man was young with a toothy grin and bright eyes, coming off as calm and wise but incredibly compassionate. “What can I do for you, Changbin?” he asked, looking up. Minho and Felix melted at the sound of the man in the white robes, unable to contain their smiles. 

Changbin huffed at the intriguement in Felix’s eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’ve got someone who needs to recover from a heat stroke.” That seems to gather the new man’s attention quickly. “That one.” Changbin pointed to Minho who seemed to go rigid at the thought of this new man being in any close proximity to him. Suddenly, Minho felt all of the grime on his body at once and snarled his nose up apologetically towards the sandy haired man. “His name’s Minho since he won’t answer himself.” Changbin cackled when Minho seemed to snap out of his daze. 

“Woojin. Now come sit down.” Woojin gripped Minho by the shoulders gently and guided him towards the chair at the opposite end of the room and sat him down. Minho practically melted underneath Woojin’s touch and was unable to resist anything the man asked him to do. He wasn’t romantically interested, but Woojin sure was beautiful. Felix looked around the room like a small child, Changbin watching from a few feet away as if Felix was a small child he had to supervise. But when Felix began to observe what Woojin did with bright, interested eyes, Changbin’s heart melted a little. 

Woojin had been in the middle of treating Minho when a new figure bursted through the door with a basket full of items. The boy was dressed in bright red robes, hair as black as night, a mole under his left eye, and lips pulled into a perfect, luscious pout. The boy was absolutely gorgeous, and Felix felt his heart shrivel up and die. “And you have the nerve to call me pretty boy,” Felix grumbled in Changbin’s direction. The new boy obviously heard Felix’s grumble and a blush began to settle on the high of his cheekbones, and Woojin chuckled gently. 

“Thank you for bringing me the shipment, Hyunjin. Set them on the table.” Woojin motioned to the table with multiple different bottles of liquids on top, and if Felix and Minho thought they had it bad for Woojin, this boy took it to a whole new level. Hyunjin scrambled to place the box on the table and hovered for a few seconds behind Woojin, obviously waiting for something patiently as Woojin finished treating Minho. Woojin chuckled when he saw Hyunjin rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet and tugged him down to place a gentle kiss to the boy’s hair. A blush as bright as the robes he was wearing bloomed across his cheeks.

“This is Hyunjin. Hyunjin, this is Minho and Felix. Hyunjin is our… what do you do again?” Changbin started, trailing off awkwardly when he realized Hyunjin didn’t have a clear title. Hyunjin didn’t seem offended. 

“Bit of everything. I run errands for Woojinnie and I’m Jinyoung’s alchemist apprentice. But I’ll help around the town if people need me to.” 

“How’s that going by the way, Jinnie?” Woojin spoke up from across the room, rewrapping a poor man’s bandages. Hyunjin’s eyes lit up but he seemed embarrassed as he fumbled over his words. He seemed to ramble on for ages, but Minho and Woojin both stayed intrigued, Woojin showing more signs of paying attention like the good audience member he was. “I’m glad you like it,” Woojin murmured with the smallest of smiles, sending Hyunjin into a giddy, blushing mess. Minho didn’t know if they were together or not, but Hyunjin obviously liked Woojin as more than a friend. 

It wasn’t long after they all got well acquainted with one another that Changbin had to leave, insisting Felix come with him despite the boys obvious interest in the medical ways of the people in Hwa-Su. The sun had set and most of the people in the small hospital room were asleep, leaving Woojin, Hyunjin, and Minho awake. Hyunjin and Woojin had cooked a meal for the three of them so Minho had something on his stomach, and Minho swore it was one of the best things he had ever tasted in his life. However, when Woojin had retreated upstairs into his own home above the medical room, Minho decided Hyunjin would be his new best friend. 

“You’re from the city, aren’t you?” Hyunjin murmured when he came over to give Minho a can of water, sitting down in the chair next to Minho’s bed. Minho nodded. “What is it like? It’s been so long… Since I’ve been in the city. I’m curious to know how it is now.” Hyunjin seemed closed off with his experiences but intrigued like a small child who just wanted to know how the stars hung in the sky and why the world turned. A bitter smile spread across Minho’s face but he couldn’t bring himself to express that bitterness. 

“It’s strict. But the people there are kind. For the most part anyway,” Minho shrugged. Heanswered every single one of Hyunjin’s questions to the best of his ability. But it was clear as the night went on, Hyunjin was becoming sleepier and sleepier, and eventually his head was buried in Minho’s thighs and Woojin had come down in a sweater and sweatpants. The sandy haired boy smiled softly at the sight and shot Minho a wink before bending over and whispering in the boys ear with his arms spread out. Hyunjin stirred in his sleep and shifted his body to twine his arms around Woojin’s neck and somehow, someway, ended up clinging to Woojin like a koala. 

“Get some sleep, Minho.”

 

Minho’s eyes snapped open and he was met with orange and gold specks flying around his head. Giggles echoed into the black abyss as one particularly large one landed on the tip of his nose. “Hey darling,” Chan chimed from the other side of the glass, chin resting in the palm of his hand as he sat cross-legged a foot away from the wall. Minho’s smile brightened as he sat a bit closer to the wall, crossing his legs underneath him as well and pressing his fingers against the glass where Chan’s cheek had been. 

“Hello, my love. How are you?” Minho inquired, eyes half lidded due to the complete and utter love he felt in his heart for the man on the other side of the wall, gold specks falling into the curls of his hair. 

“The day seemed the same to me, but I’m trying. For you…,” Chan trailed off shyly, and Minho’s heart swelled. That was all Minho ever wanted. However, Minho didn’t want to dampen the mood, so he shot for making Chan a flustered mess instead. 

“You look ethereal with the gold. You should wear it a lot more.” Chan’s cheeks reddened with an orange tinted blush, just as Minho had intended, and his foot knocked against the ground, sending an orange streak slithering along the grooves of the floor to greet Minho on the other side. The two gaped at it in shock, snapping their heads up to meet each other’s wide smiles. Every step they took, every contact they made with the black floor, a bright orange streak shot towards the other, and they couldn’t help but act like small children. 

They danced and bounced and sprinted along the wall, laughing like a bunch of maniacs. The two weren’t sure why the orange brought them so much joy, but with the gold specks along with orange petals falling from the sky and neon floor, it felt as though the universe was allowing them to be themselves for a bit. Allowing them to relive their innocence… together. 

 

The sounds of steps echoed off of the grey metal walls, Changbin tugging down his burnt orange hood and mask and revealing the black ink along the sides of his skull, neck, and back. The markings went along his entire body, glowing with a certain orange tint that resembled the symbols of the world in between reality and dream, Changbin a living embodiment of the essence of said world. Changbin was a guardian of the barriers, the barriers between universes and the soulmates linked between, and it was stressful and lonely. 

So, when he walked into the main room, ready to melt himself into the world he guarded with his life and saw a man he hadn’t seen in nearly three years, Changbin freaked out. “Han? What the fuck are you doing here?” Changbin screeched, hands flying in the air. Han whirled around, robes gracefully following the movement of his body as his wide, innocent eyes were revealed to the elder. Han had aged well, Changbin would admit, but it seemed as though Han had a certain childlike innocence to him Changbin couldn’t explain.. 

“Changbin… We need to talk.”

“About…?”

“The barriers. Have you been letting them open? Are there more of us?” Changbin frowned at the question, shaking his head. Changbin was curious as to why Han was becoming so paranoid and asking him that question, but if Changbin was truthful, there was a part of the system that he didn’t quite pay attention to. It’s not as if he didn’t want to, but he only got so much time as Changbin never did sleep well. 

“Not that I know of…” Changbin replied, hushed. “I’ve been struggling to keep up with all of the barriers. I only get so much time nowadays.” Han’s eyes softened considerably when he gathered how stressed and guilty Changbin was about it all. He knew it was hard, especially with the bombings in the outer city when everything came crashing down. It’s not as if Han didn’t try and insist on helping with the barriers, but Changbin had been stern when he told Han to spend his life with I.N. and not worry about the mess the two of them had caused. 

“H-how is it? Being in Eun?” Han couldn’t help but ask. Based on the many scars lining the shown skin of Changbin’s body, made with the ink of the inbetween, Eun hadn’t been kind to him. Changbin stared at his friend for a moment, the softest of smiles evident on his lips. The two had been through hell together, and they were undeniably appreciative of one another even if they hadn’t seen each other since they were 16. 

“It’s been rough. The capital city has isolated themselves and the bombing sites of the outer city are now wastelands separated into districts.” Changbin’s face seemed to fall the more he spoke. “We’re almost at war with the capital city. They’re trying to get rid of us who live in the wasteland. I think… I think the people in the city don’t remember what happened. I think the city members brainwashed all of them. The only thing I do know is that we’re the only ones who remember what it was like before the bombings.” 

Han’s breath came in with a sharp intake, the dark haired male squeezing his eyes shut. “We did this, Bin. We started all of this.” It was obvious Han was trying to hold back his distress, but then his voice broke and his bottom lip began to wobble. Changbin was quick to rush over and run his hands up and down Han’s arms as an act of comfort. 

“We were young, Han. You were having a crisis, and me being the good best friend I am, I helped you. Yes, we broke the barriers, but people are with the ones they love now, including you.” 

“But what about you?” Changbin smiled sadly. 

“I’m getting there okay? I’m closer to my happiness. But my soul is here. In the inbetween. I belong nowhere now.” The idea was depressing, something no one should have to deal with. But Changbin was okay with this. He had to be. 

“But what about Felix, hm?” Han croaked, wiping away the rest of his stray tears harshly. 

“He’s close. That’s all that can be said.” Changbin smiled, offering Han a kiss to his forehead, leaving behind a singular, gold spec in its wake. Suddenly, the world around them shook, knocking them both to their knees and clutching anything they could find to stabilize themselves. Cracks ran along the ceiling and both of the boys held their breaths, preparing for the material above to come falling onto their shoulders. 

The rumbling stopped, and the boys were left in a shocked daze. The inbetween did not break. Yes, the barriers could be broken between worlds, but the heart of it all could only be broken by something as powerful as fate. “How-” 

“We need to check the barriers,” Changbin graveled, scrambling up and helping Han onto his feet before they began sprinting down long, multiple corridors that seemed to go on for miles. However, one particular corridor, the one between earth and Eun caught their attention. The gateway was cracking, the floor beneath half way down evaporating into nothing. Wind bashed against their ear drums as they looked down into the abyss, met with nothing but a wave of heartbreaking silver loneliness and rebellious purple passion.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Do you enjoy this? Making me believe I'm not alone and that someone might actually love me? I just want to be normal! But I can't do that!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was edited by my lovely best friend Ren!
> 
> Half way there folks
> 
> also I apologize in advance.

As days passed and Chan slowly but surely finished the book Seungmin had recommended to him, the burnt orange cover began to fade more and more noticeably into a dull yellow. Chan didn’t know if it was just his mind playing tricks on him as he flipped through the pages, but he knew one thing and one thing alone: Seungmin knew something and Chan was angry. However, he wasn’t sure if he was angry at Seungmin for knowing and not telling him, or himself being obvious enough for Seungmin to know. 

In the back of his head, Chan wanted to know how and why Seungmin knew about his dreams. But the anger pumping in his veins outweighed his curiosity, and Chan was left sitting on the floor of the bathroom in nothing but a yellow t-shirt and oversized black boxers, boiling in his own head. He seemed to have the inability to function like a basic human, too freaked out by everything going on around him to focus on taking care of himself. 

It’s not as if anyone actually cared for him. BamBam left an hour ago after knocking on the door for two minutes, Jisung and Jeongin stopped calling two hours ago, and Seungmin hadn’t said a single word to Chan since he lent him the book. It was obvious, to Chan anyway, that he was unwanted when he was at his worst, so didn’t bother trying to fix himself. The only person that could possibly handle Chan at his absolute worse was Minho, and-

Minho.

The anger inside Chan only seemed to bubble up more when Minho even crossed his mind. None of it was real. It was all a game. None of this shit existed, none of it. The lovers in the book didn’t exist. They weren’t really separated and found their way through using another’s help. They didn’t finally coexist with one another after breaking the barriers. They didn’t start a war in another universe. It wasn’t real. So why was his mind feeding into this horrendous idea of true love and companionship?

He didn’t even register that he was up on his feet before he was staring at himself through the mirror. His skin was tinted red and eyes narrowed into thin slips as he kept his curses at bay. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw neon yellow dripping from the ceiling and a certain, uncontrollable anger took over. Chan’s knuckles met the glass in front of him with a cry erupting from his lips, blood seeping out onto the sharp, shattered pieces and onto the off white sink below. 

Chan’s bottom lip trembled mindlessly as he just kept punching the mirror over and over again until his knuckles met the wall behind and his feet stepped onto a few of the pieces on the floor. The pain hadn’t quite registered at that moment, but when he saw the blood not only coating the sink but the white floor tiles, something else clicked in his head and he was left with the mess. Chan should have cleaned up the glass and his knuckles, but instead the whispers in his ears, the more evil ones, urged him to sit down on the floor with his legs pressed against the sharp edges of the glass. 

His fingers wrapped around the jagged pieces and lifted them up, exhaustion clear in the trembling of his arm and hand. he dirty surface glinted in the light and reflected a small portion of Chan’s face, the only portion he needed to see. Chan always believed eyes spoke louder than words or actions. If you can read and decipher a person’s eye, you know what they’re thinking at all times. And when Chan saw his own… he saw the emptiness that was so familiar to him, yet so painful at the same time. 

Chan didn’t belong here. Chan didn’t belong anywhere. Not in Korea. Not with BamBam. Not in the in between. 

Not with Minho. 

A mix of what was a whimper and a sob fell from Chan’s lips as he realized what he was going to do but making no move to stop it. The only thing Chan could feel in his body was the pumping of blood in the veins of his wrist, calling out to him in a way that seemed a little too familiar. He promised himself he wouldn’t relapse… but here he was. Ready to end it all a few years later. Chan gripped the glass more firmly, aiming it at the pale skin of his wrist in between two of his more recent scars. 

However, when the glass was about to break skin, a knock came barreling at the door and the familiar voices of both Jisung and Jeongin meshed with frantic knocking at the door rapidly. Chan started to feel the pain in both his feet and knuckles at that exact moment, wincing when he went to go stand up. “Hold on!’ Chan called out weakly when the knocking didn’t subside. It stopped for a few moments and Chan held his breath, sweeping the broken glass off of the sink and into the over piled trash can next to it. 

“Chan! Open the fucking door!” Jisung screamed, the knocking going as far as to shake the walls. A whimper filled the bathroom when Chan bent down, accidently putting pressure on the cuts on his feet, and he toppled over. Jisung must have heard him hit the wall, because suddenly the door was kicked open with a loud bang and the two of them came barreling inside like crazed animals. Jisung looked around with wide eyes, seeing the mirrors lining the walls of the small hall, Jeongin matching his expression of unease. Chan was one of them. There was no denying it anymore. “Chan?” he called out again, “Where are you?” 

Jisung’s voice was far softer now, but that didn’t change the fact that Chan didn’t want to show himself. However, when Chan took in a sharp intake of breath and shifted his feet, a cry fell from his lips and alerted the two boys. Jisung and Jeongin shared a look before they followed the hall to the the source of the sound, stopping in their tracks when they saw the sight of Chan hunched over the sink stepping on broken pieces of glass and blood everywhere. For a few moments, the trio looked at each other like they had seen a ghost, but Jeongin snapped out of it and jumped into action before Jisung could even register what was happening. 

“Hyung, you idiot!” Jeongin cried out, hooking his arms underneath Chan’s and guiding him out of the bathroom. At this point, Chan was sobbing like he hadn’t for twelve years, the tears coming out in thick waves, but was also trying to fight Jeongin. For what reason? No one was really sure. However, as soon as Chan hit the couch, his body melted and proceeded to not function properly. His mind was racing, processing what he had been about to do and how Jisung and Jeongin had practically saved his life. They didn’t need to know that, though. 

Jeongin ran around the entirety of Chan’s apartment until he stumbled upon the first aid kit, Chan catching the order the younger threw at his boyfriend to clean up the mess in the bathroom. He didn’t say anything though; he wasn’t sure if he could. Jeongin came stumbling back into the lounge and sat himself down on the coffee table in front of Chan. The boy took Chan’s left foot into his lap and cleaned off the blood with a damp cloth, wrapping it in alcohol soaked bandages that made the cuts sting and burn. 

The younger repeated the same action with Chan’s right foot and both of his knuckles, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Chan was still sobbing by the time Jisung was done cleaning up and Jeongin treated his wounds, a warm feeling bubbling in the pits of his stomach when they wrapped their arms around him. The tears began to flow with more ease after this, nothing holding Chan back from breaking down in these two lovely boy’s arms. Jisung hushed quiet words of reassurance into his ears while Jeongin practically laid on top of Chan, twining his arms around the elder’s neck. “Hyung… tell us what’s wrong,” Jisung coaxed quietly. 

Chan’s throat made a gurgling noise as he swallowed a hiccup, showing his tear stricken face to the duo holding him close. No understandable words stumbled out of his mouth, neither one of them able to comprehend whatever Chan had been trying to say. Eventually, the eldest gave up and just sat there, becoming unresponsive to any touches or words thrown his way. Jisung and Jeongin were lost; they weren’t sure what they were supposed to do. But they weren’t going to leave him by himself by any means. 

They had a pretty good idea what probably could have happened if they waited any longer, and the mere idea of it made them shudder. Yes, they weren’t as close to Chan as they would have liked to be, but they still cared for him deeply, even if Chan wasn’t aware of it. The elder had so much going for him, so much potential, and the couple just wanted Chan to be aware of that. “Hyung… Are you okay? It doesn’t have to be anything more than a yes or no answer.” At this point, Chan had stopped sobbing but he stared at the wall in front of him with an empty glint in his eyes. 

Two tears fell before Chan croaked out a soft, pitiful “No.” Jisung tugged Chan close to his chest, placing his chin on the top of Chan’s head and rubbing his back soothingly. Chan couldn’t release anymore tears but he gripped Jeongin’s arms that were wrapped around him from behind like his life depended on it and trembled violently. Eventually, some how, some way, Chan ended up with his feet in Jisung’s lap and his head in Jeongin’s, the three watching a movie Chan didn’t know the name of. 

They spoke in hushed whispers, Chan not saying much and just enjoying the feeling of Jeongin’s nails scratching against his scalp. Jisung and Jeongin didn’t mind too much when Chan didn’t say more than a few words. They knew he was trying his best to stay awake and not be any worse of host than he already might have been, so began to try to coax him to sleep. But it seemed as though Chan was completely avoiding the idea of sleep and couldn’t even give in to Jeongin. But night soon fell and Jeongin had to be getting home. “Chan Hyung, I have to get going,” Jeongin murmured, shifting so Chan would lift his head. 

The elder sat up, removing his feet from Jisung’s lap and smiling weakly. “Alright, Jeonginnie, get some sleep and good luck.” Chan tugged Jeongin down into a tight hug, releasing him a few seconds later. 

“Wait outside, I’ll take you home, angel.” Jisung placed his hand on the back of the younger’s head and kissed his nose, smiling softly. Chan admired them from the couch, but the loneliness from before crept back up in his heart. If only Minho-

No.

Minho isn’t real. None of it’s real. 

As soon as Jeongin was out the door, Jisung’s smile dropped and his eyes turned serious. The boy dug through his pockets before taking Chan’s hand and placing a folded piece of paper there. “Listen, this was on your door before we came in. I don’t know how long it was there but just… be careful okay. Take care of yourself” Jisung warned, taking Chan’s wrist to his lips and kissing it lightly. A dull, warm feeling fluttered in the pit of his chest and Chan watched Jisung leave with the whispers licking at the shells of his ears once more. Jisung got to love and be happy, and Chan was stuck with an imaginary friend and whispers that weren’t real. 

But when the front door clicked shut and the paper in Chan’s palm suddenly became more noticeable; his breathed hitched. He unfolded it with hesitation, unsure of how to treat the situation or the words written inside. 

I know. 

Meet me at the piers tomorrow night: 1am. 

Don’t be late. 

-H

For a moment, Chan thought this was his mind playing tricks on him again. He couldn’t bring himself to freak out over such a thing; not when his eyes were dropping closed and his mind was losing sight of the real world. Not when he looked at himself through the mirror in front of him and slowly descended into the eerie world of sleep. 

 

The town of Hwa-Su was lively four mornings after. Minho wasn’t quite up to par by the time he woke up, but he was more comfortable moving around and settling in with the townsfolk. Besides, he had gotten far too much rest. Unsurprisingly, Felix had been the one to wake him up, practically throwing his smaller body on top of the elder and wrapping around him like a koala. “It’s time to get up, Hyuuunnnggg” Felix singsonged. Minho grumbled and just sunk further into the bed, winding his arms around the younger. Felix quickly realized his mistake and began to squirm. “Minho- Changbin help me!” Felix groaned, trying to unwind the death grip Minho had over him. The black haired outlander began to snicker but didn’t move from his spot against the wall. 

“He wants to cuddle, Felix,” Changbin shrugged in amusement, pacing around the room and helping the other patients with whatever he could as Woojin wasn’t there at the time. The blonde haired boy huffed and just placed his head underneath Minho’s chin, relaxing into his body. However, Changbin got too close to the bed and Felix suddenly gripped him by the back of his robes and tugged him down onto the bed as well, rolling on top of him and clinging to him the same way he had done with Minho. “Brat!” Changbin groaned. 

Minho couldn’t stop cackling at the two, managing to roll out from underneath Felix. The moment Minho stood up and stretched his body, all of his bones seemed to pop at once and Felix cringed, subconsciencly curling into Changbin’s body. Changbin felt like his heart was going to leap out of his chest with how fast and hard it was beating, unable to control the blush on his cheeks. Felix hadn’t seen the pink tinted skin but Minho sure had and didn’t hide his cackling one bit. “Get off of me, brat.” Changbin grumbled, and Felix shyly climbed off of him. 

“What are we doing today?” Felix inquired curiously, watching Changbin straighten his robes intently. Changbin flickered his eyes up in amusement. 

“You guys are going to settle in.” 

“Wait, you’re not going to be with us today?” Felix asked, sounding far more sad than he probably should have been. Changbin’s smiled crookedly, head tilted to the side and gazing at the younger with a look only Minho recognized: pure and utter admiration. Minho wasn’t sure how close the two had gotten, but it was obvious that Felix saw Changbin in a way he didn’t see Minho. 

“Upset, pretty boy?” The tips of Felix’s ears turned red. “I have business to take care of, people to tend to. Hyunjin offered to show you guys around. “ Minho brightened considerably at this new found fact. He really enjoyed the younger’s company but Felix didn’t seem to happy about Changbin leaving them behind for the day. “He should already be outside-” Minho didn’t even wait to let Changbin finish his sentence before leaving, unaware of the gentle touches to Felix’s chin and even more gentle words falling from Changbin’s lips. “You’ll be okay, pretty boy.” 

But with missing one moment comes with witnessing another and Minho was met with the adorable sight of Woojin and Hyunjin talking in hushed whispers a few yards away. Hyunjin wore the same red robes from before, but they seemed fancier, the under layers having beautiful gold swirls, and Woojin wore the same robes from before as well, red outlining his cuffs and collar. The two were far too close to be having a regular conversation, and if that hadn’t been enough, the blush on Hyunjin’s cheeks and the quick kiss to the younger’s nose from Woojin was. 

When they separated and Hyunjin caught Minho’s eyes, the blush seemed to deepen but a scowl rose on his face. The younger knew exactly what Minho was thinking. However, Minho simply pulled up his mask and hood, winking subtly and shooting Woojin a polite smile. “I see you’re up and out of bed. Are you feeling better?” Woojin inquired in concern after strolling up to him with Hyunjin right beside him. Minho nodded once, uttering a “much” before straightening his back. 

“So, I heard you’re my tour guide today, Hyunjinnie.” Minho grinned, flickering his gaze to the younger who seemed to perk up considerably. At this point, Felix and Changbin came walking out and joined in on the conversation. Felix and Hyunjin stared at each other for a moment, Felix suddenly feeling insecure by Hyunjin’s beauty, oblivious to Hyunjin feeling the exact same way. “Ah yes. Two beautiful boys feeling insecure over the other. So cliche,” Minho said pompously, snickering at the blush on both of their cheeks but fell into laughter nonetheless. That seemed to break the ice quickly and Felix was internally grateful for Minho. 

Hyunjin and Felix linked arms with a few more quiet laughs falling from their lips, Changbin and Woojin watched them with admiration. “I really have to get going. I have to speak to someone this morning. Have fun,” Changbin said, waving once before pulling his tan hood and mask up and walking away, blending in with the townsfolk easily. Woojin bid his farewell after wards, shooting Hyunjin a special smile before escaping into the infirmary. The moment the door shut, Minho hooked his arm through Hyunjin’s free one, wiggling his eyebrows. 

“So, Woojin?” Hyunjin shrieked and quickly detached himself, practically running away while Felix and Minho followed, cackling evilly.

Hyunjin showed them the way of life in Hwa-Su. He explained to them how they grew their food in the farms in the mountains, created their cloth using plants along the river beyond the valley, and gathered their medicines from deep within the ground of the desert. These people had completely devoted themselves to the elements of the earth, adapting without any sort of use for technology. The towns folk were happy and content with the life they had made for themselves. However, Minho wasn’t quite sure how they ended up buying robes from the fabric shop in the center of town. 

Hyunjin modeled all types of different colors, grinning widely and laughing like a maniac when Felix snarled his nose up and began to join him while Minho just laughed and clapped his hands. The elder did, however, get his own set of robes that matched the rest of the townsfolk, matching the deep red Hyunjin wore but far more simple. They laughed and enjoyed their time, making the most of what they could before it all came tumbling down. 

First they heard a loud boom, then gunshots, loud, piercing screams, and then all of them combined. Minho’s heart raced as the three of them fell to the ground, holding their heads close to their chests incase the roof came crashing down on top of them. The building they were in shook violently, but stopped abruptly. Hyunjin crawled towards the trembling woman in the corner of the shop but the door suddenly burst open and a gunshot fired, her blood splattering on the wall behind her. Minho had to cover Felix’s mouth so they didn’t hear his whimper. 

Hyunjin had a dark look in his eyes, sinking further into the ground as if he were about to pounce like a cat. There were three guards in the shop, all wearing the same white uniforms of the capital city. Felix and Minho seemed to shrink in themselves more, Minho taking note of the snarl evident on Hyunjin’s face once he registered who these soldiers belonged to. “Split up! Look for any other outlanders!” The guard gruffed out. One of them was heading towards Hyunjin’s direction and the other two were coming towards Minho and Felix. The eldest nudged Felix and motioned for him to move quietly and swiftly. They successfully dodged the two soldiers, choosing to hide in one of the changing rooms until they passed. 

The soldiers didn’t pass. They stared the dressing rooms down, Minho making eye contact with one of them through the cracks of the curtain. Before the soldier could raise his gun and pull the trigger, a hand grabbed him by the back of the neck and plunged a long knife through not only his heart but slid it around his neck. The soldier fell to the ground revealing Hyunjin, but the black haired boy didn’t have time to think about the life he just took.

Hyunjin was skilled with his body and movements. He had obviously trained long and hard before with the way he hooked his legs around the soldiers hips and flipped them backwards when he wound one around the soldier’s neck. Hyunjin detached himself before he went tumbling to the ground as well and grabbed the soldier’s neck before he could even think to get up, snapping it with ease. A silence followed afterwards, Hyunjin breathing heavily, “It’s safe.” Felix and Minho stumbled out from the dressing room, eyes blown wide. 

Blood coated his clothes and was splattered on his face and hands. Hyunjin hadn’t bothered to wipe it off but Felix was insistent with the way he grabbed Hyunjin’s cheeks and wiped it off with the edges of his tan sleeve, unaware of the blood coating his own clothes. “We need to go.” Hyunjin batted Felix’s hands away when another boom went off, sending a ringing through his ears. Felix and Minho gulped and ran after Hyunjin’s retreating figures, grabbing the guns from the dead soldiers before they left. 

The town was chaotic, people running around trying to find shelter as the bombings became more frequent. Soldiers were everywhere, shooting townsfolk left and right. Minho felt sick to his stomach, but he couldn’t dwell on that right now, not when Hyunjin was screaming in his ear about finding safety. Hyunjin led them back towards the infirmary and the lower levels of the town, but stopped abruptly at the sight before him. Woojin and a few others were fighting off the guards, Woojin handling four at a time with two katanas in hand. 

Hyunjin went barreling towards the elder, pulling out two long knives with a crest Minho and Felix didn’t recognize. But that didn’t matter, because Hyunjin was literally running into a soldier invested war zone and Minho couldn’t sit back and watch. Yes, Woojin and Hyunjin moved with grace, taking the guards out with ease, but he saw more deployments sneaking up on them so took it upon himself to open fire. 

Time moved in the blink of an eye after that. One minute they were being swarmed, and the next, the soldiers lifeless bodies covered the ground beneath them. Everyone breathed heavily, Felix staring around them with wide, fear-blown eyes. “Where’s Changbin? Have you seen him?” Woojin asked Hyunjin, who shook his head. Woojin cursed under his breath, “We have to get going. Head to the tunnels. I have to grab a few things first,” Woojin ordered, squinting his eyes when Hyunjin insisted he should come with him. “Hyunjin. I’ll be fine. Now go.” Woojin shoved them towards the stairs, running down after them but stopping at his home and the infirmary. 

It was obvious Hyunjin wanted to stop and wait for Woojin, but he had to help Minho and Felix. They trailed down into the lower levels of the city, stopping abruptly when they heard whimpering from one of the main centers on the bottom floor. They stood, not making a sound, but jumped when they heard a gunshot and a body falling to the ground. Two soldiers came out of a home with a screaming child in their arms; the boy couldn’t have been anything under the age of ten. Before Minho and Hyunjin could register and stop him, Felix was on his feet with a gun in hand, shooting four bullets into both of the guards’ bodies. 

The screaming child cried out as his knees hit the ground, and Felix rushed forward and wrapped him into his arms. The child seemed to melt into him, sobbing hysterically. “Where’s your parents?” Felix hushed, looking around frantically. But the boy seemed to cry harder after being asked that and the three had a pretty good idea of what that meant. Felix stood up with the child wrapped around him after another bomb went off, all of them running towards the tunnels. Hyunjin sighed a breath of relief when he saw Jinyoung standing at a metal door, sword drawn and at the ready. 

“Oh, thank god. Have you seen Changbin?” Hyunjin was quick to ask, sheathing his knives and approaching his mentor. Jinyoung shook his head. “Fuck,” Hyunjin cursed quietly, trying not to startle the child in Felix’s arms. The four were ushered beyond the metal door, the bombings continuing to go off above ground. The room they were shoved into was filled with not even half of the original town, everyone shivering and whimpering as they hugged and comforting each other. “Keep the door open for a bit longer, Woojin is on his way,” Hyunjin ordered before joining a few others in the corner. Felix went to go put the child down but the child gripped onto his neck tightly in fear. 

Hyunjin’s leg bobbed up in down, lips pulled between his teeth. Minho was worried the door might melt from Hyunjin’s intense gaze, but he didn’t utter a word about it. He knew how much Hyunjin cared for Woojin and was internally grateful when the man came running through the door, a bundle of fabric in his hand that was filled with various items. Hyunjin stumbled up, rushing towards him and twining his arms around Woojin’s neck. “You idiot. Don’t ever do that again,” Hyunjin whimpered, clutching his hair tightly. Woojin chuckled and grabbed Hyunjin’s face and placed a tender kiss to his lips. 

“Changbin?” Woojin asked when they pulled apart. Hyunjin shook his head. “We have to close the door. The bombs are getting worse and bigger. I’m pretty sure I saw a ship pass over the town.” Woojin muttered, looking at Jinyoung. The man nodded and went to go shut the door but Felix was quick to interject. 

“But Changbin isn’t here!”

“We don’t have a choice, Felix” Hyunjin whispered, sounding depressed. Felix stared at everyone in disbelief, lips tugged into a wobbling pout. “Close the door, Jinyoung,” Hyunjin’s voice cracked. 

“But Changbin–” Minho grabbed Felix by the face tenderly, whispering sweet reassurances to him, distracting him from the door being shut and locked. Tears slipped down Felix’s cheeks as he trembled violently, but no other sounds escaped his mouth. 

“Changbin is going to be fine-”

Minho was cut off by the loudest boom he had ever heard, feeling his head spinning as his back hit the ground and he was forced into the world of sleep. But a smile spread across Minho’s face at the mere thought of Chan. 

It was going to be okay. 

 

A sense of dread filled Chan’s heart. He was back, stood in the middle of the black abyss of his mind. The yellow tinted wall in front of him hadn’t been as cracked as before, some of the original cracks having been repaired and Chan was given the perfect view of Minho’s fallen face when he realized the same exact thing. “Love… I – what happened?” MInho whispered quietly, tracing his fingers over where the cracks used to reside. Chan didn’t say anything though. He wasn’t sure he could.

He couldn’t give into this madness. 

“Chan?”

“This isn’t real,” Chan muttered angrily, scuffing his foot against the floor. Minho felt his heart shatter at Chan’s words, wishing the barrier hadn’t been there in the first place so he could wrap Chan up in his arms and smother him in the love he so desperately needed and deserved. But Chan paid Minho no attention, muttering to himself as if he were in complete hysterics. “None is this is real! You’re an illusion! You’re a trick my mind is playing on me to make me suffer more than I already do!” Chan approached the glass with anger radiating off of him in thick waves. Minho whimpered but didn’t back away from the glass, not when Chan was right there. 

“Do you enjoy this? Making me believe I’m not alone and that someone might actually love me? I just want to be normal! But I can’t do that!” Chan began to bang against the glass. Instead of the wall breaking more from the pressure, the cracks began to repair and Minho’s heart dropped. “Why does it have to be me? Did I murder an entire town in my past life? Is that why you’re so hell bent on making sure I believe you’re real and in love with me–,” Minho was quick to interject when there was one final crack, the one that ran diagonally across the glass. 

“Chan! That’s enough!” 

The inbetween seemed to stop functioning for a moment. Everything around was them shaking and trembling violently. A crack ran right down the middle of the glass wall with a deafening boom and Minho flinched. The glass began to fog up around them, obscuring their vision of the other. The last thing Minho saw before the yellow fog took over the glass was the empty look in Chan’s eyes, the same one he had when they first met. “Take care of yourself, my love. I’ll always love you.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because if the in between ceased to exist, so would the worlds around them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!
> 
> So i was on instagram this week on the minchan tag and I saw someone talking about this book so thank you for that... (I had like ten identity crisis why do you guys read this shit I don't understand"

It was so ungodly quiet that Chan could hear his neighbor’s whispers through the wall when he woke up. He listened intently, only able to make out a few words, but Chan figured out that they had been talking about him. How Jisung and Jeongin were banging on his door, the screams that came from the apartment a few moments before the crash that followed suit. They truly believed that Chan had gotten into trouble with some of the more… questionable characters in the apartment complex. However, Chan could have swore the people mentioned flowers and his front door step, and Chan grew a bit too curious. 

Despite the heavy feeling in his chest from last night's events and the anxiety creeping up on him at the thought of the note, Chan rolled out of bed and opened his bedroom door. For a moment, and only a moment, Chan felt like his head had been cleared. For once, he felt like a normal broke university student with a messy apartment. But the mirrors lining the walls and broken glass on the floor told him otherwise. Chan could have swore those mirrors hadn’t been broken before he went to sleep, but as he looked around and saw mostly everything he owned sprawled about, it seemed as though an earthquake had hit. 

The violent trembling of the world of dreams flashed back into Chan’s brain and his breathing became ragged, completely forgetting about the flowers that happened to be on his doorstep. Chan stumbled over the broken pieces of glass, not even bothering to pick up the mess as he tried to quickly gather his things. As much as Chan really didn’t want to, this was too weird for him to not talk to Seungmin about. So, with disheveled clothes and the now green book in hand, Chan was out the door, completely overlooking the large assortment of flowers right by his door and the odd, judgemental looks his neighbors were sparing him. 

Chan didn’t run, he didn’t have the energy, but he walked with a fast pace and shoved by multiple people without even bothering to shoot them apologies. There hadn’t been a point. But as soon as the familiar store was in view, Chan broke out into the run he believed he didn’t have the energy for. He tugged open the door roughly, startling the boy st the counter and stormed up to him. Seungmin flinched when the book was slammed down on the counter, “What the fuck do you know?” There was a certain fire in Chan’s eyes that Seungmin knew all too well, one that was in the gleaming evil eyes of those who tortured him when he was in school. Seungmin gulped and shifted his eyes down nervously. 

Chan must have noticed the change in Seungmin’s character, the fear trembling in his eyes, and took in a shaky breath before calming down considerably. “Seungmin.. How do you know?” Chan’s tone was far softer now but Chan was not going to let Seungmin worm out of this one. Even if there had been a slight… buffer. Seungmin had insisted they go in the back to talk and Chan didn’t mind, just as long as he got answers. However, the moment he sat down, the front door of the shop busted open and three boys came filing in. Seungmin seemed to pale considerably when one of them called out. 

“Where you at, Kim?” Chan recognized the voice but couldn’t put a name to it, going to stand up and take care of it but Seungmin pushed him down onto the couch by the shoulders and motioned for him to be quiet. Seungmin straightened his clothes and put on a poker face before escaping past the colorful curtain and into the front of the shop. Chan could hear faintly what they were talking about. But most of it had just been petty words of harassment that seemed like nothing compared to what Chan knew Seungmin had heard before. “How you doing, freak? Miss me?” The original boy spoke with a bite. 

Seungmin didn’t respond.

“Aw, casting a spell on us, Kim? What will it be this time? My hair catches on fire?” Chan wrinkled his nose up at this. Were their insults really this weak? “Come on, Kim. Pull some voodoo shit!” Nothing was heard except for a loud crash, “I. Said. To. Pull. Some. Voodoo. Shit.” Chan couldn’t sit back and listen anymore; he had to do something. Chan rushed out into the front of the shop and saw Seungmin pinned to the wall by the tallest of the bunch, two boys standing behind him grinning evilly. None of them seemed to notice Chan. The pro to Chan being so light was that he walked almost silently; it was hard to hear him from anywhere.

So, it was no surprise when Chan snuck up on them and grabbed both smaller teenagers by the neck and smiled confidently, “What’s going on here boys?” The boy holding Seungmin against the wall flickered his gaze over his shoulder to see his two friends whimpering under the near death grip Chan had over them. The tallest of the bunch roughly let Seungmin go, bashing his back against the wall one last time as he turned to face Chan with a sense of not only admiration but fear. 

“Bang Chan? You graduated from Cheongdam high school right? Two years ago?” The taller cocked his head to the side, studying Chan as if he were a piece of paper written in a different language. Chan widened his smile, making it unbearably obvious he was irritated with their mere presence. “What are you doing here? With someone like this?” The boy Chan had yet to name snarled in his direction, grabbing Seungmin roughly and pulling up his sleeves to reveal the Greek lettering permanently marked into Seungmin's skin along with large, pink scars. “Someone who does this to himself-”

Chan could no longer contain his pent up anger. The anger he had felt last night with Minho. The anger he felt when BamBam showed up on his front door uninvited and kissed him. The anger he felt when his mind began to cloud and he was given this unrealistic life of love and companionship. Chan let go of the two teenagers and made an aim for the other currently gripping Seungmin like a dog. Next thing anyone knew, Chan had the teenager pinned to the wall by his neck with his nails digging into his skin. “I suggest you leave and never come back. If I ever see your face here again, I won’t hesitate to hurt you.” 

While the words hadn’t been much on their own, Chan’s red tinted face and popping veins really sold it if the blood dripping down the teens neck hadn’t. Chan let go of the teen when he nodded once. The teenager made a show of bumping into Chan on his way out of the shop, his two friends not far behind. Chan took deep breaths to calm himself down, his tensed back facing Seungmin. The boy couldn’t hold himself back from wrapping his arms around Chan’s middle, burying his face in between Chan’s shoulder blades. “Thank you.” 

Chan relaxed considerably. He didn’t know what it had been about Seungmin, but to an extent, he felt as though Seungmin had been the only one who cared. Maybe it was that they were similar but so different. Maybe it was the way that they both felt a sense of loneliness that was too stubborn to go away. Maybe it was that their lives were so fucked up that the only people who truly understood, even if they didn’t know everything, were each other. The elder swiveled around and took the younger teenager into his arms, cradling him close to his chest as if he were something he had to protect. 

For the first time in a very long time, Seungmin felt taken care of. He had gone too long taking care of himself, being independent for the sake of his well being, and silent on his thoughts and feelings. But here Chan was, holding him as if he loved him like a little brother and that was enough to make Seungmin melt into Chan and clutch him as if he were going to disappear into thin air.

They always left. 

Chan slowly guided them back towards the back of the shop, never detaching himself from Seungmin. However, the younger just got tired of tripping over Chan’s feet and jumped up to wrap himself around Chan’s body. The elder chuckled lightly before trailing back into the back room, completely unaware of the pair of eyes watching them through the window. Chan released Seungmin down onto the couch, watching the boy try to pull down his sleeves and cover his inked and scarred flesh but Chan reached down and stopped him from doing so. 

Seungmin flinched but didn’t make any effort to move away from Chan, feeling the elder tilt his arm from left to right to study the markings and scars. “Greek?” Chan knew Greek and Latin played a significant part in what the Kim family claimed themselves to be, but he hadn’t expected the bold letters trailing down his Seungmin’s arms. The younger nodded slowly, a gentle smile. “Anástasi? (ανάσταση) Resurrection?” Chan murmured in confusion. Seungmin gapped at him in shock. 

“You know Greek?” 

“I studied it when I was younger. It was just something to get me by,” Chan shrugged, as if it had been nothing. “Why is this tattooed into your arm?” Seungmin gently removed himself from Chan’s grip at the question, not liking the goosebumps on the back of his neck when Chan began to trace the lettering with his finger tips. A pout formed on Chan’s lips but he didn’t try and argue with Seungmin. If Seungmin didn’t want to be touched than who was Chan to try and change that?

“It’s… It’s a family thing.” Seungmin uttered, staring at an old family picture hanging on the wall with a part of it torn out. Chan nibbled on his lower lip, wondering who was there originally and why their part of the family portrait was torn out but he couldn’t bring himself to ask. He didn’t want to know how touchy of a subject it could have been. “About the book…” Chan inched towards the edge of the couch, resting his nervous, trembling hands in his lap when Seungmin finally began to talk about the story. 

“I don’t... “ Seungmin paused, squeezed his eyes shut, and took in a shaky breath before he continued. “All of it’s real. I know about the world in between and what it does to people. I know about your ‘dreams’ and who you’re talking to.” Chan felt like he was going to pass out from how fast his heart was beating with the younger’s words. “Minho, right?” Chan stood up so quickly, Seungmin barely had time to register what was going on but his body reacted before his mind did. Seungmin reached out and grasped Chan’s fingers to pull him back down on the couch. 

Chan huffed. “And you love him, no?” Chan felt the air rush out of him, suddenly unable to breathe properly because of Seungmin’s words. Did Chan love MInho? Yes, he did; even if he didn’t want to admit it. Minho was Chan’s world. Minho was someone Chan relied on in such a desperate manner, it was concerning. Chan nodded his head once, gulping audibly and trying to fight back any sort of tears. Now, Chan regretted screaming and yelling at Minho last night. Because even if he hadn’t been real, Chan would much rather live in a make believe world with Minho than in the real world without Minho. 

Seungmin gently gripped Chan’s hands. “You’re not insane, Hyung. You’re not making any of this up. It’s real. I know this because I know second hand what it does to people-” Seungmin’s gaze flickered to the family portrait, “so just please hang on. Talk to someone. Talk to me. I’m not ever going to judge you,” Seungmin pleaded desperately, and Chan couldn’t help but clutch Seungmin’s shoulders and drag the trembling boy into his chest. “We can fix the mended cracks, hyung. You’re going to fix them. Just please take that chance.” 

Chan didn’t go home that night. He stayed with Seungmin in the back of the Kim family shop and watched movies. Neither one of them were up for being alone at the time, and the other was the only way they could cure that loneliness for a little while. They even ordered some food and had it delivered to the shop, Chan paying for it despite not having a lot for rent this month. But Seungmin was worth it, especially the way his eyes lit up at the sight of dumplings and eggs. Chan’s pretty sure that boy has taught him how to make eggs ten different ways. 

Seungmin was the brother Chan never had. 

 

Minho woke up to hands shaking him frantically, eyes snapping open to be met with the frantic ones of Felix. “Hyung? Hyung! Are you okay?” Felix inquired anxiously. An inhuman noise bubbled from the depths of Minho’s throat and the man managed to lift himself up despite the aching, sharp pains in his temples and head. A part of the back of his head felt knotted and uncomfortable. Minho reached back to comb through his, but was met with with dried blood intertwined with his locks. He took a shaky breath and brought his hand back to his face, seeing the blood stains coating his dirty palm. 

Minho completely ignored Felix’s questions and calls as he looked around, realizing they were still underground, but not where they had been before he passed out. Now, they were in a tunnel system, the long corridor going on for miles on either side of him. Multiple people were pressed against the walls, huddled close together as they shivered from the cold of the night and depths of the world. It was only then that he noticed that he was practically wrapped in multiple layers of cloth to keep warm. As he looked around and saw the shivering people around him, Minho decided he was not worth the suffering of multiple people. 

Much like those who hadn’t made it out of Hwa-Su.

People stared at him with caution as he stood up, almost stumbling into the wall in front of him due to his instability, but he shook it off. “Here,” Minho murmured to a mother and her three kids, offering them the biggest blanket. The woman smiled appreciatively towards him, blessing him quietly and allowing him to move on. The next blanket went to an old pair, two men that were passed out on top of each other, and their position made Minho giggle. It reminded him of the way him and Felix used to lay back at the capital city. Minho swaddled them in the second to smallest blanket. 

The next person Minho stumbled upon was a teenager. She was small and frail, but she looked as though she was skilled in the art of killing someone. Everyone in Hwa-Su did. He handed her the smallest blanket, tucking her in almost and the girl seemed to burst into tears after that. Minho was quick to wrap her up in his arms, stroking her back and letting her clutch on to him as if he were some sort of anchor keeping her grounded. “T-Thank you,” she hiccuped before wiping her tears and shoving him away to save the rest of her pride. Minho chuckled breathily and moved on, completely unaware of the fond looks he was receiving from the remaining community of Hwa-Su. 

Minho passed out the two other blankets, one to a set of triplets and the last to an old woman with her son. He completely unaware to the quiet conversation Felix had been having with Woojin and Jinyoung, Hyunjin passed out in Woojin’s lap. “He has a good heart. He seems selfless to an extent,” Woojin admired, Jinyoung nodding in agreement, muttering about what a good leader Minho would make. Felix huffed in amusement into his knees, the tiniest of smiles evident on his face. He always looked up to Minho, and considering his rank, that was very good for Minho. 

“He was meant to be the next in line at the capital. He was supposed to take his parent’s places as the head of council and run the city,” Felix informed dreamily, clutching the cloth of his pants tighty. “But Minho saw what had been wrong with the system. He’s always hated it, and I think if he had the power, he would have destroyed it by now.” Woojin and Jinyoung shared a look, sharing the same thought and debating the pros and cons of possibly going through with it. They didn’t get to discuss it because Minho came up to them, hugging himself. “Cuddle with me!” Felix whined, out stretching his arms and making grabby motions.

Minho giggled and sat down, pulling Felix into his lap and wrapping around him tightly to preserve some warmth. They didn’t talk much, they just waited for a few hours before they started moving once more. Minho, being Minho, stayed in the back with Jinyoung, making sure everyone was safe. “So where are we going?” Minho asked after a while, realizing that he didn’t even know what destination everyone had in mind. Jinyoung turned to him for a moment, obviously debating if he should tell Minho, but he didn’t see a reason not to. Especially after what Felix had told them a little bit ago.

“The ‘wasteland,’ as you and your people like to call it, is made up of different clans and isn’t all desert. Hyunjinie-ah has a brother that runs the city up in the mountains. We are going to stay there until we can rebuild Hwa-Su, somewhere kinder and farther away from the city.” The way Jinyoung spoke seemed as though he was disappointed by the fact of living farther away from the capital. Minho was completely unaware of the fact that the people of Hwa-Su took pride in being so close to the capital, being a good starting ground for those who had to flee the city. However, Minho felt that there was a certain pride and homely feel to Hwa-Su, and he wondered if this new town would be the same. 

They managed to reach the new town by midday. Everyone stopped and patiently waited as Woojin and Hyunjin spoke with the guards at the underground entrance of the city. They seemed to let them in right away once Hyunjin stepped forward and showed his face. Woojin rolled his eyes as Hyunjin snickered lightly, the elder shoving him forward and earning louder cackles from Hyunjin in the process. “Are they together?” Minho blurted out suddenly. Jinyoung huffed in amusement and sent the younger a wink without saying a word. 

The town was absolutely gorgeous. Once he got out from the underground system and was hit with the cool but wet air of the forest around them, Minho sighed deeply. Much like Hwa-Su, this new town seemed to build into the earth and use it’s resources lightly rather than destroy it all by making a large town. The trees had multiple houses amongst them, beautifully made out of musty glass, wood and stone. It seemed as though no one truly had privacy with the domes made of glass, but the luscious greenery around them told a different story. Higher up, there was a castle made of glass. Jinyoung grabbed Felix and Minho and dragged them with him towards the building. 

Now, Minho had seen his fair share of beautiful mansions, being a counsil son, but this building in front of him seemed entirely different. It felt… mystical, like there had been some otherworldly essence to it. The whole mountain felt that way. “Come on. We’re speaking to their leader.” MInho and Felix followed without any sort of hesitation, taking note of the way Hyunjin was skipping the steps leading up to the castle and completely ignored the guards before bursting through the front doors. When the rest of them reached the top, they saw Hyunjin in the arms of a brightly smiling man in silky, green clothes.

He wore long, thin green pants, a top made of the same material with no sleeves that showed off the inked markings on his skin, and boots that seemed of good durability. The fabric had a shimmer to it, gold swirls that matched those on Hyunjin’s bright red robes of Hwa-Su. So, Hyunjin was royalty. “It’s so good to see you again, Hyung,” Hyunjin exclaimed in excitement, the man laughing in agreement. Hyunjin turned towards the men behind him, catching Minho’s eye. “This is Jinyoung, my mentor,” Hyunjin pointed towards the man, allowing him to bow towards the leader. “This is Woojin,” he uttered shyly, stepping back to grip Woojin’s hand gently and shooting his elder a look. “And this is –” 

The leader caught Minho’s eyes, staring down upon him intently. “– Lee Minho and Lee Felix.” A silence fell over the group as the leader spoke, finishing Hyunjin’s sentence. The man stepped forward to further inspect the two. “I am Sungjin. Welcome to Eun Jung.” Sungjin took both Minho’s and Felix’s hands firmly, hanging onto Minho’s for a moment too long. Minho coughed awkwardly and twitched, signaling the man to let go of his hand. “Brother. What brings you and your people to me?” Sungjin uttered and turned to face Hyunjin. This was where Woojin came in politely. 

“The capital city attacked Hwa-Su. More than half of the community is dead and the town is in ruins. It’s time, leader.” Sungjin’s eyes hardened drastically at the man’s words. Woojin didn’t back down under his gaze, finding a strange admiration for it, and let out a silent breath of relief when Sungjin stepped forward and patted him on the shoulder. 

“If you think it’s time, than it is. But for right now, let’s get you and your people settled in,” Sungjin hushed, presumably gentle, but Minho saw the fire in his eyes, the determination. “Hyunjin, take Woojin and show him the sleeping quarters. I will take the rest.” A wide smile spread across Hyunjin’s face and he quickly dragged Woojin off towards the opposite direction of where Sungjin had been guiding the others, going far deeper into the castle, and Minho began to wonder what it would be like to explore the castle. 

The first person they dropped off was Jinyoung. Sungjin showed him the quarters of Eun Jung’s alchemist and made him feel right at home. Next, they dropped off Felix. Felix had began to ask about the medical department of the city, and Sungjin spoke with not only equal excitement but pride. He couldn’t help but beg for Sungjin to show him the medical quarters, and Sungjin couldn’t deny him that. Felix would make a great apprentice. That left Minho alone with Sungjin. 

“So, tell me Lee Minho.” Minho hummed. “How have you escaped the city and ended up in my clan?” They stopped in what seemed like a courtyard in front of a pond with fish Minho had never seen before.

“They found me near the border and with the marking of the clans. Changbin had given it to me after he knocked me out and promised me somewhere outside of the city. I went through the system and Changbin saved me from the sewers.”

“And what of the other Lee?” 

“Felix?” Sungjin nodded. “He saw too much. He came to visit me in the sewers the night Changbin showed up, and when Felix tried to get away, Changbin marked him. Now he’s here… and honestly? So much brighter and mature.” The way Minho spoke about Felix made it seem as though they had been lovers themselves; but they weren’t, and Sungjin knew better. Sungjin didn’t have to see Changbin and Felix interact to know Changbin held a soft spot for the younger. Changbin never brought anyone out to the wasteland that didn’t want to be there. That’s just not who he was as a person. 

“May I ask something of you?” Minho asked suddenly. 

“Anything,” Sungjin murmured. 

Minho took in a deep breath. “The capital city… it has to go. The people running it are corrupted and wish to control their citizens. They have these… chips they’re designing. Promise me, Hyung, that they will suffer. That we will end the brainwashed citizens of their own and make sure the capital city is destroyed. Once and for all.” There was a fire to Minho that Sungjin admired greatly. When he looked at this boy, he saw someone worth fighting for. 

“I promise.”

MInho fell asleep in a luscious bed in the highest treehouse of Eun Jung by Sungjin’s request. The leader had bid Minho farewell with a kiss to his knuckles and a promise of a tour around the city and a meeting with the rest of the clan leaders about the capital city. For a second, Minho remembered what had happened the last time he fell asleep, and tears began to drip down his cheeks as he drifted off into a not so peaceful slumber. 

 

The moment Chan appeared, he saw Minho stood a few yards away from his side of the barrier, tears falling down his cheeks. Chan rushed forward, apologies falling from his lips, “Minho, I’m so sorry – I didn’t mean to say those things – I didn’t know what was going on and I was scared –” Minho raised a singular hand, silencing him. Minho stepped forward, every step he took echoing and creating a flower to grow from the floor beneath. “I’m so sorry, darling,” Chan said, voice cracking as he rested his forehead against the glass and tears tears fall down onto it. 

The moment Minho did the same thing, palms flat against the glass and head rested against it, the world around them rumbled once more and the cracks returned from before. They seemed to gape more than they had originally. “I understand. This is so unbelievably scary for the both of us and I just want you to know that despite everything, you’ll always be the man I love.” For the second time, their lips pressed against the glass and a large crack went down the other side, creating an ‘X’ with a hole right in the middle. 

They stared at it for a moment, Chan’s pointer finger going up and touching it. Shards of glass punctured his skin as the tip of his finger broke through. As odd as it looked, Minho lifted up his own hand and went to go touch the finger poking through, but they both flew back, their bodies hitting the ground roughly. Wet, hot tears began to fall from Minho’s eyes, and Chan crawled forward and banged against the glass gently. “Minho, darling, come here.” Minho hiccuped and hesitantly crawled forward, his knees touching the wall. “This.. world is becoming unstable. This barrier in front of us is breaking because we refuse to let it block us.”

“We can’t let this ruin us. We can’t do it, darling,” Chan’s words were comforting, something Minho would hold on to until they could finally be together, however long that may be. Minho nodded and wiped away his tears, imagining it to be Chan’s hands instead of his own. That provided a lot more comfort for him. “We’re going to be together soon, darling. I promise.”

 

Han waited for what felt like years in the main control center of the inbetween, nervously nibbling on his lower lip and not allowing anything to get in his way for the time being. I.N. sat on the other side of him, seeming far more relaxed than his lover. In reality, I.N. was more nervous than Han. I.N hadn’t seen Changbin in years, and after Han told him of their conversation and findings of the inbetween, I.N. insisted on joining them. 

“Where is he?” Han grumbled in worry, stomping his feet like a small child. I.N. rolled his eyes at his older lover and shook his head. Han worried too much, even if this had been odd for the both of them. Changbin was never late, it wasn’t who he was. But Changbin would much rather be late than to not show up at all, so surely he would show up. 

“He’ll be here, love,” I.N. hushed, taking his lover’s hands in his own and massaging his fingers lightly. Han sunk into his seat. 

“You’re right, angel.” 

Except, Changbin never showed up. They waited, waited, and waited for the whole of the nine hours their bodies were asleep, but Changbin was never to be found. There was a certain aura missing to the in between, nagging at them both in a way that told them Changbin wasn’t here and that he wouldn’t be here for a while. However, Changbin wasn’t dead. Han and I.N. would know if he was. The in between would cease to exist if Changbin were to die in the world he lived in now. 

Changbin held a power over the in between that only Han and I.N. were aware of. Changbin had poured his whole soul and being into this world that allowed him to be at peace and without the instability of the realities around him. Here, Changbin could be himself. However, his tie here was stronger than he realized and with his absence, the instability he so desperately avoided would end up here, and that scared the trio in a way that they were ashamed to admit. 

 

Changbin was the inbetween. 

He wasn’t just a guardian or an overseer for the world. 

He was the world. 

And now, it was becoming unstable, and Han and I.N. had to take it upon themselves and become one with the in between as well. They had to do it, not only for Changbin, but themselves and everyone else affected.

Because if the in between ceased to exist, so would the worlds around them.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “But this is fixable. There is a way that you two can be together, but it’s going to be hard and chaotic.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was edited by my lovely best friend, Ren! 
> 
> Y'all, as of the end of next week, all of this book will be written and i'm h y p e d

The rain fell from the sky heavily, covering Chan’s shoulders and head like a blanket. Seungmin was back at the shop, asleep and cuddled up with a pillow Chan had put in place of himself while Chan was out in the pouring rain trying to figure out why the fuck this strange person had decided to meet him when all hell had broken loose from the sky. If Chan knew that it was supposed to pour, he probably would have picked up a cheap umbrella from the store, but he was too close to the piers at that point to turn back and get one. So, he trudged through until he reached the benches and sat down. 

Chan could practically already feel BamBam shaking with anger if he knew that Chan was sitting out here in the freezing rain, and for a moment, Chan felt bad. Chan was aware of how much BamBam cared for him deep down despite him refusing to believe it, and here Chan was, on a rotting bench willing to collapse underneath him at any moment with rain coming down like a waterfall on his shoulders. However, it was too late for Chan to get up and leave, because out of the corner of his eye, he saw a figure approaching him. The closer the figure got, the more recognizable he became, and Chan froze up when he saw the face of none other than Han Jisung. 

“You…,” Chan trailed off breathlessly, a sense of betrayal evident in his tone. Jisung could only sigh sheepishly as he shifted the umbrella over his head so it was covering both of them. “You lied to me… What do you know, Han,” Chan snapped angrily, ready to reach out and grip Jisung by the collar, but refrained from doing so. Despite the situation, this was still Jisung, the bright eyed boy who had helped Chan countless times before. The least Chan could do was hear him out. “Well?” Chan was growing impatient by the prolonged silence. 

Jisung heaved a heavy sigh and for once, for the very first time, Chan saw something deep within the younger’s eyes that he never thought he’d see. Jisung’s eyes seemed as though they held the stars within them. Jisung looked like he had lived for hundreds of thousands of years, and that pure factor seemed as though it took a great toll on him and Chan wanted to know everything about Jisung that he didn’t know before. Jisung had seen things, all of the worlds around him countless times, and Chan knew that deep down, even if he chose to not believe it at first. “Channie Hyung, you and Minho are involved in something far greater than you know.”

He sounded exhausted, strained even. However, Chan couldn’t focus on that, because Jisung knew Minho. He knew ABOUT Minho. “I know it’s hard, trust me I know,” Jisung hushed, playing with the matching ring he had with Jeongin on his ring finger. “But this is fixable. There is a way that you two can be together, but it’s going to be hard and chaotic.” Chan fell back onto the bench in not only shock but disbelief. How did Jisung know? Were him and Jeongin in the same situation? That would explain a lot considering Jisung just kind of appeared out of the blue one day with a pretty obscure story that just didn’t quite make sense in Chan’s head. 

Jisung didn’t join him on the bench but did step closer so Chan wasn’t getting poured on. The only thing that could be heard was the rough crashing of the ocean, relentless rain pouring down onto the umbrella above them, and Chan’s harsh breathing. He had buried his head in his hands at this point, beaten fingers desperately clinging to his hair and tugging it tightly. Chan felt like he was losing his head with all of this. “Channie hyung… the barriers… they’re not supposed to break. You two are in two different worlds and it’s supposed to stay that way.” Chan knew this, god, he knew this. He and Minho were not supposed to be together. “But sometimes… the bond is stronger.”

Chan sucked in a harsh breath, squeezing his eyes closed to contain his anger. Jisung finally joined his hyung on the bench, rubbing his sweaty palms along his soaked jeans, “Sometimes there’s a glitch. The world you find yourself in can become unstable underneath such a defined love.” Jisung’s voice had grown louder in volume but softer in tone. Jisung was trying to be comforting and help Chan process everything, but that was hard to do when Chan was so… reluctant on believing what was going on. Jisung couldn’t understand it all completely, as where he came from, his original home, knew and studied these barriers. However, Jeongin knew exactly what Chan had been feeling. 

“Your love for Minho is the strongest I’ve ever seen. Even before, when you longed for someone beyond the reflection of yourself, you had set that world into a state of unstableness. Your and Minho’s power is something that can’t be taken lightly,” Jisung murmured, going to place a hand on Chan’s thigh, but the elder shifted away and Jisung sighed. “You have to accept this, Chan. That’s the only way you two can be together. Believe Chan, not only for yourself, but for Minho.” 

Chan’s body jolted up and off of the bench, face pulled into the angriest snarl Jisung had seen in a very long time. “Why are you feeding this to me? Do you actually think this is okay? None of this shit is real Jisung! You’re just playing with me! I’m perfectly fine knowing Minho isn’t here.” Lie. “I’m perfectly fine knowing I can’t touch him.” Lie. “I’m perfectly fine knowing he isn’t real!” The biggest lie of them all. Chan wasn’t okay with that and he continued to kick and scream even when Jisung tried to wrap him up in his arms and comfort him.

“No! Don’t touch me!” Thunder rumbled and shook the sky above them, Chan kicking his legs against the pavement but stopping abruptly when a hand clasped around his wrist and tugged him back. The last thing Chan saw were the guilty eyes of Jisung before something knocked against his head and everything went dark. 

 

Barely lit up skies went on for as far as the eye could see from the balcony of Minho’s new housing. The view was absolutely gorgeous, and Minho’s breath caught in his throat the first time he saw it that morning. And as he gazed upon that horizon for the first time, two things came to mind. It felt as though Minho was on top of the world and knew everything. It felt like his mind was clear and a third eye had been put into place. It was as if he could see Hyunjin and Woojin cuddled up in a bed of lucious blue covers and Felix cuddling every blanket he could out of pure and utter loneliness. MInho could see Sungjin breathing in the cool air as he sat outside as well, and Jinyoung was no doubt messing with a few ingredients to see what new concoction he could come up with. 

Despite it all being in his head, Minho knew. It was all accurate, even if that had been the one thing he didn’t know. It was all a bit ironic really. 

The sun rose over the horizon slowly, peeking just over the edge and giving Minho a sense of happiness as the bright orange stared him right in the eyes. It brought him back to the time him and Chan had danced around shamelessly, creating sparks of color in a rather bleak world. Minho had made a habit of daydreaming about the situations he was in with Chan involved, and that moment with him sitting high up in the sky and listening to the calming silence was absolutely no different. So, during the time, he imagined Chan holding Minho loosely in his lap with his back pressed to Chan’s chest and a calming silence floating around them. The idea had been entirely heart warming, but had Minho near tears all the same. 

Minho would do absolutely anything to be with Chan. He’d give up everything he had just to hear Chan giggle, touch his skin, and let him know that it was going to be okay. Of course he could do that after they had both gone to sleep, but it just hadn’t been entirely the same. Especially when Chan was less likely to believe him from the other side of the glass, much less another universe entirely. But in a way, it all intrigued Minho. How had he, of all people, got himself thrown into a situation like this? Was the world they found themselves in when they slept an entirely different universe? Or was it all just his head? As much as the latter would make his life easier, Minho didn’t want easy; he wanted Chan. 

Knocks came at his door what felt like minutes later, but had really been hours based on the position of the sun in the sky. It was high up, beaming down on him with a comfortable amount of heat. Minho basked in the sun for a moment too long and almost forgot about the person knocking at his door. He snapped out of it when the knocks came again, a bit louder than before. “Coming!” Minho yelled, going back inside and slipping on a robe to shield his poorly clothed body to any on looking eyes. Minho finished tying it as he opened the door, and Sungjin stood before him with a kind smile and clothes in hand. “Good morning, leader,” Minho greeted politely with a small grin. 

Sungjin waved him off quickly. “My name is Sungjin, Mr. Lee. Call me as such. You are a friend of course.” Minho cocked his head to the side in shock. Never had a leader been so informal with him. He had never met who ran Hwa-Su, and he wasn’t allowed to call his mother and father anything outside of Ma’am and Sir. He wasn’t used to this, but that didn’t mean he didn’t like it. “I have brought you some clothes for today. I will show you around the city and then we will meet with the rest of the leaders later this afternoon to discuss the capital.”

“I can only ask you the same of me, Sungjin,” Minho said, returning to the topic of how to address each other. “Mr. Lee just reminds me of my father.” He trailed off, his smile tightening at the idea of his parents. But he was not to dwell on such a thing that was so far in the past. His parents would receive their karma, just as the rest of the council would. Minho gently took the green robes from the elder. “That sounds great. I’m glad we can finally get this meeting going,” Minho murmured, slightly caught off guard that Sungjin managed to get everyone here in just a few short days. 

“Well, meet me in the courtyard when you are dressed, Minho.” Sungjin smiled politely before swiveling on his feet and walking away, Minho shutting the door behind him. The moment the door shut, Minho let go of a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Even after being around people all his life, being in the public eye from the time he was born, people still gave Minho endless anxiety. Minho grew up paranoid, and god, was he tired of being paranoid around others that obviously cared for him. They weren’t them. But no matter how many times he told himself that, the only person who truly broke past that barrier had been Chan.

Minho sluggishly pulled on the green torso top with sheer sleeves and loose fitting pants. The clothes had been like the ones of Hwa-su, but more adept to humid weather than protecting you from the harsh sunlight like he had to face in Hwa-Su for a few days. Everything was thin and loose so you didn’t get too hot, and Minho felt like he was walking around in his sleeping clothes rather than every day attire. The brown leather boots that his pants had been tucked into however gave him a sense of power, protecting him from the winding roots, thorny plants, and unforgiving bugs. Minho made sure he looked presentable before making his way down the tree house, a flicker of a vision of Chan holding his hand as they made their way down the treehouse together. 

Ten minutes later and Minho was standing at the entrance of the courtyard, looking around for Sungjin’s face. In the far corner, he saw Sungjin speaking to a slightly smaller man with a blue tank top and loose shorts. He could practically smell the ocean from where he stood. Minho didn’t intervene as the two looked like they were having a very deep discussion, and it would be rude of him to interrupt. Especially with the way Sungjin was looking at the other man and gripping his fingertips lightly. It had been the same look Hyunjin gave Woojin when Minho woke up in the nursing shed in Hwa-Su. So it looked as if both brothers were madly in love with another. 

If Chan had been there, he would have gripped Minho gently by the hip and guided him away. A gentle smile appeared on his lips as he stared at the water dripping from the fountain in front of him, fondly. “Minho.” Sungjin’s voice broke through Minho’s thoughts and the younger flickered his eyes over to where the two stood. They now had at least a two feet worth of distance between them, and Minho almost felt bad for interrupting them. He cautiously paced over, relaxing slightly when the unknown man sent him a dazzling and gentle smile to comfort him. 

“I hope I wasn’t interrupting anything,” Minho trailed off shyly, scuffing the soles of his shoes against the gravel underneath. The unknown waved his hand off, introducing himself as Wonpil. “I’m Lee Minho. Excuse my accusations, but you do not seem like you are from this clan,” Minho implied, Wonpil nodding his head with a knowing smile. 

“I like him. He’s smart and observant.” A blush arose on Minho’s cheeks. “You’re right. I am from farther east, by the oceans. I am the leader of Myung-Ok, and you are from the capital city. A runaway council member’s son, I hear?” It seemed as though Minho intrigued Wonpil rather than intimidate or make him uneasy, and Minho was entirely thankful for that. He didn’t want to be seen as a threat to these people who had so kindly taken him in. 

“More like disowned really, but that works,” Minho shrugged. 

The trio toured the city, Minho too gobsmacked and nervous to say anything. The time for their meeting was soon approaching, and Minho was getting more and more anxious as the minutes passed. He was supposed to be used to this by now, but being in a room with multiple leaders that were there to help him was more nerve racking than him being in a room with the council members that would soon exile him to the sewers. These people mattered more to him than they probably should have, but at the end of the day, their decisions could change the whole course of history. This could end with a blood bath. 

“Lee Minho, are you ready?” Wonpil swiveled on his heel quickly, locking eyes with Minho. The glint in his eye seemed adventurous, knowing even. It was if Wonpil had seen the world and more but wished to explore it again even if he had seen everything it had to offer. The look made Minho relax considerably and when Wonpil took his hand as an older brother would, Minho nodded his head in confirmation. “The leaders are not as scary as you think, one of them’s a right idiot sometimes,” Wonpil snickered before linking their arms and pacing ahead of Sungjin who chuckled lowly. 

They reached the capital building of Eun Jung and Minho took note of the multiple carriages and horses sat outside. There had been four in total; a blue one, a white one, a purple one, and a black one. Minho was rather entranced by them all as they seemed to represent a different region of Eun and it was… breathtaking in a way. They trailed up the stairs, in through the doors, and down a long corridor where a smaller room was placed. Within that small room was a long table with 10 chairs, 6 of them filled. 

One man had ashy blonde hair that covered his forehead and silver glasses framing his face. His pale skin and thick, wool white clothing made it seem like he was from the highest peaks of snow, his hair practically shaking out unmelted snowflakes and ice shards when he shifted his head. The second man was younger than the other two, black shaggy hair littered with lavender colored flowers and a dopey smile that made it seem like he was high most of the time. His was clad in purple, loose fitting clothing that reminded Minho much of the clothes Eun Jung had. The third man looked like he hadn’t seen the sunlight in over three years. He wore a kind face and blonde hair, but wore tight black clothing that defined every inch of him. 

When Minho, Sungjin and Wonpil entered the room, everyone stood up to bow in their direction. The nine of them exchanged bows politely before making it to their respective chairs, Minho sitting just between Felix and Woojin. “Introduce yourselves. We have new people joining us today,” Sungjin ordered the other leaders; the first man stood up. 

“I am Jae, leader of Hyun-shik.“

“I am Dowoon, leader of Hei-Ran.” 

The third man stood, his leather clothes squeaking uncomfortably. “I am Young K, leader of Chul-Moon.” 

When Young K sat down, everyone glanced at Minho expectantly. “I am Minho, runaway from the capital city,” Minho introduced himself shyly. Dowoon cocked his head to the side, informing everyone present that there had been more to Minho than he was letting on. Minho flickered his panicked eyes towards Felix, who only nodded his head in reassurance. “Former son of the head council members of the capital city.” Dowoon flashed him a dopey smile. Minho sat down shyly and didn’t lift his head until everyone had introduced themselves. When Hyunjin was the last to introduce himself, the meeting finally began, even after the weird glances the leaders had been sparing the empty red chair at the end of the table. 

“If it hasn’t been said yet, Hwa-Su was attacked by the capital city a few days ago. The people of Hwa-Su have suffered greatly from the loss of not only their homes but loved ones. Not even half of the population remains.” A tense air seemed to fill the room, some of the snow from Jae’s hair falling onto the table as he tilted his head away to hide his face. Young K spared him a frown. “The capital city has caused more terror on us than any of us would ever like to admit. There was a time we were scared to leave our homes in fear of being struck down, and now that same feeling has returned. I refuse to let us delve back into that state of fear.” Sungjin spoke with stability; his tone was cautious and wise. 

“How are we supposed to match against that of the Capital? Their technology is far beyond any of ours.” Young K voiced his doubts, which had obviously come to no surprise. “I hate the capital city as much as the next guy for what they’ve done to us, but there is only so much we can do.” A silence fell over the group, Dowoon biting so harshly on his lip that it began to draw blood. This was when Woojin spoke up, pulling out a small, black cube with symbols that seemed all so familiar but Minho couldn’t quite place his finger on it. The men stared at it in shock while Felix and Minho stared in confusion. “You-”

Suddenly, so suddenly that everyone nearly fell out of their chairs, the door to the room burst open and in the doorway was a familiar figure. Seo Changbin stood beyond the threshold in bright red robes with familiar golden swirls lining the under layers, and Felix’s breath caught in his throat. “That, my boys, is the key to ending all of our suffering,” Changbin stated, walking around all of the chairs to reach the empty red chair at the end of the table that no doubt belonged to that of a missing leader. Felix could barely even look at him and the way Changbin fit so perfectly in the chair. He felt like his head was about to spin right off of his neck. 

Changbin pulled down his hood and mask, revealing the black ink along his neck and skull that hadn’t been there before. It was only when Changbin placed his hands on the table that Felix theorized that Changbin’s whole body was covered in this new ink based on the sight of his fingers having symbols all across them. Felix couldn’t tear his eyes away from them. So, when one moved back to under the table and cold, callused fingers grazed across his sweaty ones under the table, Felix felt his heart leap out of his throat and tears threaten to spill. Changbin must have noticed this as he gently gripped Felix’s hand with a bit more pressure and ran his thumb along his knuckles. “Dickhead,” Felix whispered so quietly Changbin and Minho had been the only ones to hear, both obviously amused. 

“I know how we’re going to get into the capital city, you just have to trust my judgement,” Changbin confidently claimed, catching the cube that Woojin slid over to him. 

Minho had been to too many council meetings, but this one had been so much different. They talked civilly and with purpose; the capital council was awful about keeping things from getting too heated, and Minho could still hear the dull ringing in his ears from his mother’s high pitched screeching. This was a nice change, and he felt good when the meeting disbanded and the leaders went on their way. A small smile creeped up on his lips when Dowoon ran out like a little kid, and when he saw that Jae and Young K had intertwined their fore fingers as they walked with a slower pace, Sungjin and Wonpil and Hyunjin and Woojin being no different. This had left Minho alone with Changbin and Felix and after the two shared a look, Felix stormed out of the room with a snarl. 

Changbin didn’t follow after him. He knew he had to speak with Han as soon as possible and couldn’t risk being caught. So, he left the room and escaped into a more private one towards the back of the castle, completely unaware of Minho following behind. Minho didn’t open the door, but he stood outside, listening intently. “Han?” Changbin murmured when he finally set the cube down on the ground and breathed the breath of the inbetween into it. Suddenly, a figure appeared in the middle of the room and Changbin sighed out a breath of relief. However, the figure was untouchable and Changbin had almost forgotten when he went out to wrap his arms around Han. 

“Hey, Changbin.” Han greeted, so quietly that it could barely be heard through the door. “I thought you were dead...” Han trailed off quietly, bottom lip wobbling gently. Changbin offered his friend a teasing smile, knowing fully well that Han didn’t think he was dead, but understood that he might have given Han a scare considering he went missing for a while. 

“When the bombs hit in Hwa-Su, I had to make sure I was behind them.” The words were vague and not at all explanatory, but Han knew exactly what Changbin had been referring to based on the ink of the in between layering Changbin’s skin. “So, when you and I.N. were worrying over me, I was here. I was alive. I had just… faded out for a little while.” It had started off as teasing but Changbin spoke a lot quieter as the words flowed out, just barely nudging the walls around him. 

“Thank god,” Han hushed, “Changbin, it’s becoming unstable. The barriers are breaking and it won’t be long until they figure out that they can crush it within a month.” 

“Is there anyone else besides them that we know of?” Changbin muttered, crossing his arms over his chest, but Han just cocked his head to the side in mild amusement. 

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that?” Changbin stayed quiet. He needed pure and utter silence to figure out if there had been anyone else and multiple different pairs came up. When Changbin opened his eyes and saw Minho stood behind him through the mirror on the back wall, he sucked in a harsh breath, but he couldn’t say he had been at all surprised. Han’s figure had vanished into thin air the moment he opened his eyes. Minho stepped forward with a soft snarl, bearing a face of confusion rather than anger. 

“It was about time,” Changbin uttered, never shifting his body to glance at Minho face to face. He only starred through the mirror with a dull, exhausted expression. “I had hoped it would have been later but I guess now is the time instead. I’m assuming you heard most of that?” Minho nodded his head. “I know about Chan, Minho. I know about the barriers and I know how yours is breaking.” Minho had figured as much but he wanted to know how he could break them. He wanted to know how he could get to Chan and not ruin everything. “You and Chan are powerful. The love you have is something I have only ever witnessed once and it sent the entire world of Eun into chaos.” 

Minho glanced down at the floor in fear, he didn’t want to destroy any world. He just wanted to be with Chan. Was that too much to ask for? “But –,” Minho snapped his head up, “I can help you. I can help you get to Chan and stabilize the barriers.” Minho surged forward, grabbing Changbin and pulling him into a tight hug, earning a raspy chuckle from the younger. “Now is not the time however. This will be delicate and we’ll have to take our time –,” Minho disregarded Changbin’s words completely, kissing him on the cheek as a thank you and rushing out the door and leaving him in the room alone. 

Changbin’s skin didn’t tingle like it did after Felix’s kisses. 

And maybe… in a way… that had been the primary reason he ended up on Felix’s doorstep later that night when the moon was high in the sky and the stars were bright and twinkling. Changbin didn’t hesitate to rack his knuckles against the wood, and the door opened a few moments later. They stood in the doorway staring at each other with guilty and adoring eyes. Felix looked like a right mess and Changbin looked as if he had been crying. “I’m so sorry,” Changbin cracked after a moment. Felix went to shut the door in his face, but Changbin wedged his foot in between before it could close. “Felix, please.” Changbin had never sounded so desperate. 

Felix hesitantly creaked the door back open, looking absolutely exhausted. “You just… disappeared, Changbin! I thought you were dead! I went to sleep worrying my ass off about you because I couldn’t handle it if you –,” Felix stopped abruptly, catching a sob threatening to spill from his throat. Changbin had saved him from the hellish, false life Felix had been living; the two had grown way too close for them to just be considered good friends and Felix’s heart yearned and pumped for Changbin’s, oblivious to Changbin’s same feelings. 

Changbin gently raised his hands towards Felix’s face and cupped his cheeks to wipe his tears away, Felix giving in hesitantly. Changbin’s arms slipped around Felix’s waist when the younger twined his arms around his neck, nuzzling his dampened into the elder’s shoulder. “You’re an idiot,” Felix hissed, no bite to it. Changbin laughed lowly and pulled his head back to really look at Felix; his other half. Everything shifted from that moment. Felix grabbed the back of Changbin’s head, running his fingers along the inked lines exposed and slotted their lips together. It felt like they were on cloud 9, a reuniting of old friends that didn’t quite know how to act around each other but were down for experimenting anyway. 

They escaped back into Felix’s room with breathy whispers and quiet kisses, enjoying the other’s newly found company until long after the sun had risen. 

 

When Minho appeared in the dark room, stars hanging above him and Chan standing not too far from the glass, fresh, hot tears cascaded down his cheeks. Minho doesn’t remember the last time he allowed himself to cry, and seeing his lover’s warm face through the cool colored glass was enough to make everything come crashing down. Minho’s knees hit the glass floor beneath him, his tears puddling in front of them not long after. “Darling? Darling, please don’t cry all the way from over there,” Chan called out, barely breaking through the muffled ringing in Minho’s ears. The younger crawled forward until his head nudged the glass. 

Minho didn’t have to look up to know Chan had pressed a gentle kiss to the glass where his head rested and for a moment, he could almost feel the fluttering of hair and the pressure against his skull. “I-I need you,” Minho managed to choke out, pulling his head up to face his concerned lover’s expression. He began to bang harshly against the glass out of frustration and desperation. Chan flinched back and tried to yell out to Minho and tell him to stop. Minho stopped on his own accord, but that didn’t make it any less painful. He tried to breathe. “Please tell me a story.”

This had become regular over their last few visits. Minho had never been allowed to read books growing up that weren’t approved by the council members, so when he found out about real books, he practically begged Chan to read or tell him stories to the best of his ability. Chan didn’t hesitate to fall into yet another story, his voice soothing Minho enough for him to lie down and face the stars in the sky. 

Minho fell back into reality with the false feeling of Chan pressed against him.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Tell the council that Lee Felix is home."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was edited by my lovely best friend, Ren <33
> 
> Two more chapters ;)

Chan’s head throbbed sharply. It hadn’t been like a hangover, but a genuine, physical pain. A groan escaped his lips before he could even open his eyes, his hands going back to massage the aching bump on the back of his head. However, when his fingers grazed against a freezing cold ice pack, Chan hissed and flinched his hand back. It felt like his senses had been muffled but were hyperactive all the same. He could suddenly hear the breathing of a figure across the room and voices down the street. The sizzle of cooking grease made Chan flinch with every pop, so much to the point where he finally opened his eyes and realized he wasn’t in his own home. 

 

Chan’s heart thumped in his chest, not quite remembering what had happened and why he wasn’t at home or in Seungmin’s shop. Chan lifted himself up too quickly, all the blood rushing in and out of his head in one fell swoop, and he nearly passed out all over again. But he tried to stabilize his uneven breathing and kept his head rested in the palms of his hands in hopes of it helping. Chan could feel a pair of eyes blazing holes into him, but he didn’t dare to lift his head until he was ready to. The dizziness and aches faded so Chan weakly pivoted his head so he could look around, locking eyes with Yang Jeongin. 

 

The young boy was in a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt he’s seen on Jisung a few times, and he sat cross-legged in a lounge chair, sipping a porcelain cup of tea. Jeongin flashed him a calming smile, braces unexposed but the mesh peaking out above his top lip. “Morning, Channie hyung,” Jeongin murmured, keeping his tone down as to not alarm Chan in anyway or make his headache worse. Chan greeted Jeongin with a grunt, rubbing his temples and catching the site of a steaming cup of tea in front of him. “It’s yours. I felt like you were going to wake up soon. And keep the ice pack near your head, Jisung hit a little too hard last night–”

 

Chan cut off his rambling in his own mind, the mention of Jisung hitting him bringing everything back. He remembered bits and pieces of last night, but the only thing that really blurted out from his lips was something completely and utterly  _ irrelevant  _ to what the fuck was going on. “Shouldn’t you be in school?” Jeongin stared at his hyung blankly, lips flat and eyes squinted in irritation. The sight was amusing to Jisung who stood in the doorway with his hand covering his mouth to prevent any noises from escaping and alerting his friend. 

 

“You– That’s really the first question you’re going to ask me? Not ‘where am I’ or ‘Why am I here?’ Really?” Jeongin groaned, rubbing his hands along his face in disbelief. Chan shrunk back shyly, an embarrassed smile working it’s way up on the slight blue of his lips. “You’re really a dad. I’m not sure why I expected more from you really,” Chan just shrugged sheepishly, cocking his head and waiting for an answer to his question. “I stayed home today, Hyung,” Jeongin answered finally, watching Chan’s lips twitch up for not even a split second before the robotic frown took back over. 

 

Chan glanced around the apartment, assuming it to be Jisung’s based on the messiness to it, and the eldest cringed at the thought of Seungmin being here. If Seungmin had been here… Jisung would have been thrown out and not allowed to come back until the younger had color coordinated his clothes, put his albums in order buy artist, and moved around every object there was to move. The thought of it made Chan smile softly to himself. Bless that kid. “Channie Hyung…,” a new voice sounded from behind him and Chan felt himself freeze up. The anger and irritation hadn’t quite settled in yet, but when Jisung spoke up from behind him, it began to sizzle. 

 

Chan just shifted his head so his chin bumped his shoulder, not even lifting his eyes from the cushion of the couch. “Hello.” It was too formal, too robotic, too calm. Jeongin hesitantly called Jisung over, lifting himself up from the chair and allowing Jisung to sit down first before gently settling in his lap. None of them were really aware of it, but Jeongin being seated in Jisung’s lap would be the only thing keeping Chan from lashing out at them both physically. “Did you bring me here to feed me more of your bullshit?” Chan bit, a snarl forming on the exhausted features of his face. Jeongin flinched. 

 

“Channie Hyung…,” Jeongin trailed off quietly, playing with Jisung’s fingers softly. “I think you should hear our story. Maybe if you heard another story from someone who loves you, you’d realize that maybe this isn’t as fake as you would think.” Chan looked away from Jeongin to hide the fire swarming in the pits of his eyes. He didn’t want Jeongin to see how angry he was getting the more he spoke. ‘Just walk away,’ Chan kept muttering to himself, but he wasn’t sure if he could. It felt like he was glued to the couch Jisung had thrown him on in the middle of the night. “Where do we even start?”

 

“We met five years ago,” JIsung blurted out before he could even think. “We were both eleven at the time and too innocent. We thought it was all just our imagination and always tried to meet up by the bridge down the street to ‘make it real,’ but obviously, it doesn’t work like that.” His murmurs were fond, fingers grazing the edges of Jeongin’s hips lightly to massage them. “Time for me in my world moved a lot faster than it did him. So, when I was sixteen and he was thirteen, we finally broke the barrier. We had met Changbin during the time and almost destroyed an entire universe–,” The story was too similar. 

 

Chan had read this story before. It was the story from the book Seungmin had lent him, and it was right then and there that Chan convinced himself that he was being played. This really was some sort of sick joke to them. “Do you guys think I’m a fucking idiot? I know this is from a book okay? This is just cruel,” Chan snapped, finding his shoes and slipping them on in a hurry. “You’re just feeding my mental illness. You’re not helping me at all!” Chan stomped out of the apartment without another word, Jeongin trying to call out to him and tell Chan to stop and come back, but Chan didn’t listen. He couldn’t listen. 

 

His head felt like it was going to spin off of his neck on his way home. He couldn’t even see clearly through the tears pooling in the depths of his sockets and he just wanted to smash the mirrors. Over and over again until nothing was left. Afterwards, he’d end it. He’d end it all and stop being such a burden on those around him. It’s not as if Chan had an actual purpose in the world. He was abandoned at a young age, his foster parents hated him, he had little to no friends, and he was insane. He would be doing everyone a favor by jumping off the bridge and joining the litter in the water below. 

 

It was a miracle in a way that Chan didn’t immediately go to the bridge. Despite the emptiness of it, his apartment was something that Chan was proud of in a way. It was small, run down, and barely livable, but it gave him a sense of pride and comfort. It was hard to explain. However, he had the full motivation to go there for just a few short moments before leaving and never coming back. He may have been proud of what he had, but that didn’t hinder his need to take his own life. It just didn’t work that way for him. 

 

When Chan reached the apartment, he wasn’t that surprised that nothing seemed to go to plan. He had gone inside, much angier than he had before, and completely disregarded the fact that his door was unlocked. It hadn’t mattered at the moment. He merely grabbed for the nearest mirror and slammed it down on the ground with a cry, watching the reflective material shatter into hundreds of tiny pieces on the hardwood floor. With wobbly lips and shaking fingertips, he grabbed for another, throwing it across the room so it hit another mirror hanging on the wall, causing it to hit the ground and shatter much like the first one. 

 

With every mirror break, it felt as though Chan was losing a bit of his sanity. A part of his soul escaped into thin air like pink mist everytime the mirrors hit the ground with a deafening crash. Chan wondered if his next door neighbors hadn’t been home or didn’t even care.  _ No one cared. _ “Hyung!” A cry came from deeper into the apartment. Seungmin stood in the doorway of Chan’s bedroom, holding a few books and his pretty pink lips tugged into a frown. Chan stopped and stared at Seungmin for a moment, seeing nothing but a dark pink. This was different from just pure anger. This was something so much different. “Hyung… Put the mirror down.” 

 

Chan’s bottom lip wobbled, letting the mirror fall from his grasp and hit the floor. Seungmin flinched when he heard the crash, but he moved forward urgently. Chan lurched backwards before bending down to snatch a sharp glass shard from the ground. “Don’t come any closer!” Chan screeched, holding the sharp edge to his wrist where faded scars littered the sickly pale skin. Seungmin froze, eyes blown wide in fright. He saw the hysteria in Chan’s eyes; it had been the same hysteria in  _ Wonpil’s _ eyes before he disappeared into the dark of night and never returned. He knew if he wasn’t careful, Chan would slit his wrist before he could even think about the consequences to his actions.

 

“Channie Hyung…” Seungmin tried to keep his voice stable, but his vocal cords betrayed him and broke unevenly. He couldn’t lose Chan, he couldn’t afford it. “You’re safe with me, hyung. You always have been, you always will be. Put that down… please,” Seungmin begged desperately, daring to take a step forward, causing Chan to flinch and put a bit of pressure against the vein popping out from his wrist. Despite this, Seungmin knew he was breaking Chan down. “You mean so much to me. You’re not alone, Hyung. Even if Minho doesn’t feel real, even if he wasn’t real, you’re never alone. You have me. You know that right?” Chan hadn’t been necessarily coming back to his senses, but the hysteria was fading and being replaced by complete and utter emptiness. 

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Then put it down, Hyung.” The glass slipped from Chan’s fingers and Seungmin let a breath of relief escape his lips. The younger stepped forward cautiously before gripping his biceps gently and guiding them both away from the broken piles of glass. Seungmin pulled Chan into a tight hug, burying his face in the elder’s neck and nuzzling his nose there to keep his tears at bay. Chan felt too empty to shove Seungmin off or to hug him back, so he stood there, rigid in the younger’s arms. Seungmin ignored this. “Let’s–” 

 

Seungmin was cut off by loud bangs on the front door, both of them flinching away from each other. “Chan, open this fucking door right now!” Bambam. Seungmin approached the door, but Chan pulled him back gently by the shoulder and shook his head at him. Chan softly whispered for Seungmin to hide in the bathroom and not come out until he told him it was safe. Seungmin was hesitant, but the elder seemed to look a lot less hysteric and a lot more serious than he had before, and Seungmin couldn’t disrespect his hyung by not following his orders. So, once Chan was sure Seungmin had locked himself in the bathroom, he approached the door and opened it swiftly, revealing a worried looking BamBam. “Oh thank god–”

 

BamBam tried to surge forward and cup Chan’s cheeks to bring him in for a firm kiss, but Chan gently shoved him away before their lips could even graze. “Go home, Bam,” Chan muttered, ready to close the door, but BamBam squirmed his way inside the apartment and nearly knocked Chan to the ground. The elder looked around the apartment with wide eyes, turning back to face Chan with a look of pure and utter disbelief. 

 

“Go home? Go home! When your apartment looks like this and you look like you’re on the verge of losing your mind?” BamBam snapped harshly, a snarl evident on his face. Chan didn’t flinch back; he merely met his hyung with an equal snarl, if not a little harsher. “What has gotten into you? You keep buying mirrors and muttering something about this ‘Minho’ in your sleep! Is that the kid from the shop I caught you hugging? Are you cheating on me?” Chan couldn’t take it anymore. 

 

“We were never together, Kunpimook!” A deafening silence fell over them as Chan’s booming voice rung out and bounced off of the shaking walls. “Stop acting like you care! You’ve been treating me like a damn charity case! You hover over me wherever I go! Seungmin obviously proves that considering you know about him and I haven’t mentioned him once. I’m not cheating on you because we were never together! _ I don’t love you, Kunpimook! _ ”  The apartment was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. BamBam looked on the verge of tears, ready to burst at any moment, and Chan felt guilty. He didn’t want to hurt him but he had to do this. He couldn’t lead him on any longer. 

 

“You don’t mean that,” BamBam whimpered. Chan took in a deep breath and squeezed his eyes shut. 

 

“I do.” BamBam took a step back towards the door. “I stopped loving you after you left, Kunpimook. You abandoned me and I fell out of love. I’m tired of leading you on. I want you to move on and be happy, BamBam. You don’t need me even if you’ve convinced yourself otherwise.” BamBam nibbled on his bottom lip as he stared at his shoes. “I think you should go,” Chan whispered and BamBam didn’t refrain from walking towards the door. 

 

“Channie… when I walk out this door… I’m not coming back,” BamBam said quietly, disbelief dripping from his tone. Chan looked up from the floor with a sad smile, head cocked to the side. 

 

“Go be BamBam from Got7, Kunpimook. Go be kpop’s greatest sensation and move on with your life. Be with someone who will love you the same way you’ll love them. Forget about me, because you won’t need to keep me around to be the best you can be.” Chan’s words were sincere. He genuinely wanted BamBam to move on and be with someone he can be in the public eye with. He wanted BamBam to enjoy the life he’s worked so hard to achieve and not let Chan bring him down. “Go, Kunpimook.” 

 

BamBam walked out the door two seconds later, closing the door behind him with a quiet click and tugging out his phone to dial a familiar number shakily. “Yugyeom? I need you,” BamBam cracked before walking down the apartment complex steps and moving on from his first, but not his last, love. 

 

Chan swayed towards the bathroom door, knocking lightly to let Seungmin know it was safe to come out. The door opened with a bang and Seungmin pulled Chan into a tight hug, Chan hugging back this time. It felt like a piece of him was gone, but it hadn’t been missed. This piece weighed him down in more ways than one, and Chan was both distraught but happy it was gone. That it was no longer a problem for him, and Chan could rest a little easier now. “BamBam? From Got7? Really?” Seungmin whispered in disbelief. Chan nodded with an empty smile. 

 

Seungmin took note of this and decided to ask him about it another time. “Let’s clean this up.” 

  
  
  


It had been in the middle of the night when frantic knocks came at Minho’s door, startling the boy considerably. Luckily, he hadn’t quite fallen asleep and was actually awake to hear the knocks instead of being so deep into sleep with Chan. Minho approached the door sloppily, jerking it open to see Changbin stood in the doorway looking around as if he were avoiding something. “Changbin, it is two in the fucking morning–,” Changbin quickly placed his palm over Minho’s mouth to keep him quiet, eyes blown wide in fear. Minho had never been more caught off guard.

 

“Shut up!” Changbin hissed, not removing his hand until Minho confirmed he wasn’t going to utter a word once it was removed. Minho let out a heavy sigh and Changbin glanced around once more before speaking. “Listen, go put on some shoes and come with me.” Changbin didn’t give any sort of details as he shoved Minho back into the tree house, not far behind him. Changbin kept looking around, inspecting the place and peeking past curtains to make sure no one was around and watching them. Minho watched him with a frown but slipped on the pair of boots Sungjin had lended him and a cloak from Hwa-su that would protect him from the cold of the forest. 

 

No words had been exchanged as Changbin dragged Minho down the steps of the tree house, Minho faintly seeing the glow of pink where the ink was supposed to be on Changbin’s skin. It reminded him of the neon he could faintly see every time he would fall asleep and be met with Chan not long afterwards.  _ Was it time? _ Minho’s heart beat frantically in his chest. They reached the bottom of the stairs and Changbin turned around so quickly, Minho almost tackled them both to the floor with a grunt. “Take this. You’re going to need it.” Changbin slipped out a blade from one of the multiple layers, Minho staring at the glinting metal with shocked eyes. “Take it!” Changbin hissed when they heard a rustle from the bushes beside them. 

 

As soon as Minho’s hands touched the blade, Changbin began to walk so smoothly that for a moment, it seemed as if he had been hovering. Minho had to do a double take to make sure, but he tried to walk just as quietly as Changbin was. Suddenly, so suddenly that they barely had enough time to react, something furry and bigger than most of them jumped from the bushes and lunged at them without another thought. It’s almost as if Minho’s body went into a mode he wasn’t used to, raising the blade and swipe it around the beast’s face with a snarl. The beast growled and whimpered as his claws hit the ground. 

 

“Tap the side of the handle!” Changbin hissed, Minho searching with his hands rather than his eyes so he didn’t break eye contact with the pink eyed misty monster in front of him. Suddenly, the blade extended into a katana, glowing a neon color that made MInho stare in awe. “Minho! Now is not the time!” Changbin yelled after two more beasts came out from the dense forest. Minho snapped out of his daze and raised the sword high up in the air as the beast looked ready to pounce, prowling close to the ground. 

 

He lunged the same time the beast did, swiping the katana along it’s neck before sticking it deep into the right eye, a black goo oozing from the cuts on it. Changbin managed to wipe out the other two beasts and the two stood there breathing heavily, Minho ready to fire question after question, but Changbin didn’t give him the time, dashing into the dense forest where the beasts had lunged from originally. The only way Minho managed to keep up with him was because he had been so swift on his feet; Changbin was nothing but a neon pink blur between the trees.

 

The pink blur stopped, and Changbin’s figure stood in front of an ivy covered stone wall. Minho stopped a few feet from behind him, breathing heavily. “Changbin what the fuck?” Changbin didn’t answer, only turning to face him and walking towards the ivy before winking and swaying backwards, falling through the ivy and disappearing completely. Minho let out a screech, running towards the ivy with too much force and falling through just as Changbin had. 

 

The wind whistled in his ears as he went stumbling down a wide and dark hole, turning his body so he was facing up towards the sky. He was met with carvings in the ceiling of a large dome glowing the same neon pink as from Changbin’s skin. It was that of an eye, and Minho’s breath hitched in his throat when Chan’s dark eyes flashed in his mind and his back hit the cold water beneath him. When Minho opened his eyes and gasped for breath, all he saw was the same neon pink glowing from plants surrounding the lake around him. They shimmered and shined, providing an angelic ringing to his ears, a darker pink than the lake. Minho was… breathless. It was gorgeous. 

 

Minho lifted himself out of the water, pleasantly surprised that his clothes and skin remained dry. “Minho,” Changbin called out softly from his left, standing at the edge of a stone tunnel that led further into the mountain. Minho swayed over to him, looking around him and staring at everything he passed. Minho climbed up onto the ledge with Changbin’s help and the two began to stroll down the tunnel, the neon pink carvings following them as they went. When Minho ran his fingers a lot them, he felt… at home. It felt as if he had been grazing the Chan’s skin, and for a moment, he stopped and stroked the smooth edges of the stone. “Come on, Minho,” Changbin coaxed softly. 

 

They reached another dome room, much like the first one. Except there was a stone circle island in the center of the lake, decorated with the same pink carvings and eye in the middle. There were two figures standing in the middle, pressed shoulder to shoulder and arms folded behind their backs. They wore sheer pink robes, made of a sparkly material Minho had never seen before, and he was rather taken back by how beautiful it was. Changbin tugged down his hood and revealed the ink markings on the back of his neck, burning brightly. They approached the two figures, Changbin reaching them first and tugging the slightly taller one into a tight hug. “Jesus, Han.” 

 

So this was Han? Standing right in front Minho? Changbin pulled back from Han and hugged the other one, holding him a more gently but seemingly with a tiny bit more passion. “Hyung, get off!” the smaller chided, shoving Changbin off of him childishly. A silence fell over them and everyone’s eyes shifted to Minho, who seemed to stick out like a sore thumb with his black robes. The younger stepped forward and clasped Minho’s hands in his own gently. “You must be Minho Hyung,” he murmured gently, studying not only the surface of his face but the depths of his soul. “Now I can see why Chan is so smitten with you.” 

 

A light switch seemed to go off in Minho’s head when Chan’s name was mentioned, firing question after question before Changbin interfered. “Minho, calm down, take deep breaths.” Minho sucked in a deep breath before squeezing his eyes shut and nearly collapsing into the younger’s arms. “I.N. and Han are from Chan’s world. They are the reason you can even see him right now.” Changbin shot the duo a playful glare, both of them just rolling their eyes and scoffing. “They are going to help you.” Tears began to well up in Minho’s eyes at the words, moving away from Changbin to pull Han and I.N. into tight, grateful hugs. 

 

The couple laughed gently and hugged their elder’s back with equal fervor.

 

“H-How is he?” Minho whispered after pulling away, nibbling on the lower part of his lip as I.N. and Han shared a look of discussion. Do they tell him and possibly spark a panic into him when the attack on the capital city was so close? Do they risk it? “I know it’s so close to the battle, but I just… I need to know how he is. I need to know I can be with him soon.” Minho’s voice broke, and I.N. grasped his hands back into his own just as he did before, stroking his knuckles lightly. 

 

“Chan is… Chan is losing his mind. He’s going insane and refuses to believe any of this is real. Han and I are trying our best to convince him otherwise, but Chan is so broken inside that he genuinely believes this is some sick joke we’re playing on him.” I.N.’s words made Minho’s heart fall into his stomach. Chan wasn’t okay. Chan wasn’t okay. Chan wasn’t okay. Of course Minho knew this in the back of his head, but it was still so hard to process that the man he loved wasn’t okay in the head and desperately needed help. One could assume that that had been the deciding point for Minho, that he was willing to lend Chan the most support he could and get to him as quickly as possible. 

 

“When can I get to him? How can we break the barriers?”

 

Changbin nibbled on his bottom lip before giving I.N. a nod and dragging Minho back slightly, Han following suit. I.N. relaxed his body in the middle of the room, letting the essence of the walls around him move towards him and swarm his body like whisps. Suddenly, a gasp fell from I.N.’s mouth and his eyes snapped open, pure white as his body slowly lifted into the air. I.N. faced the ceiling as words fell from his lips in a language Minho didn’t recognize. “Soon,” Han translated quietly, “Bloodshed. A lot of bloodshed. Now is not the time. Violence… Soon.” The more Han spoke, the more confused he seemed to be. I.N.’s body fell to the ground and Minho’s blood ran cold. 

 

“It’s okay. This happens.” Changbin hushed from behind Minho, the two watching Han bend down and cradle I.N.’s limp body in his arms and press kisses to his forehead.  _ Soon _ . 

 

Three days had passed, and Minho was back in the desert surrounded by too many guards to imagine. The day had finally come, and Minho felt like he was going to shake out of his own skin. Blood was going to be shed today and there had been no stopping it. Minho just hoped it wouldn’t be his own or anyone else’s. He sat on the edge of the camp he was held up in, a familiar figure sitting beside him and holding his hand in comfort. “You ready?” Felix murmured carefully, stroking his best friend’s knuckles gently. Minho laughed under his breath, but there was no amusement to it. No. No, he really wasn’t ready. 

 

He wasn’t ready to be back in the capital city where he was exiled from. He wasn’t ready to face his family after they practically disowned him. He wasn’t ready to kill them. However, he was ready to put an end to the suffering of his people, and Felix was their key in, as scary as it would have seemed. “I’m not comfortable with you going back in there alone,” Minho voiced his concerns but Felix just tugged Minho’s back into his chest and ran his fingers through his hair much like Minho had done to him before they were thrown into this mess. “I’m serious, Lix.” 

 

It wasn’t a secret that Felix had grown up considerably since he escaped into the wasteland. The boy had grown iron skin and skills of a samurai, but he had also grown a massive weak spot for Seo Changbin, and Minho was scared this wouldn’t end well for the couple. “Don’t worry, okay? Nothing is going to happen. I’m not saying it’s going to run smoothly, but this is going to go to plan. We’re doing great things tomorrow and you know that,” Felix reassured, pressing the lightest kiss to his friend’s temple. Minho let a small smile grow across his lips. 

 

“Felix! It’s time,” Changbin called out to them from a few feet away. Felix bid his farewell to Minho, the two sharing a tight hug before the region leaders spoke with each other quietly. They talked in hushed whispers, the smallest of smiles on their lips, but the nerves had kicked in for everyone. If this one part didn’t go well, none of it was going to go well. So, when the two set off, everyone at the multiple camps spread out around the border were filled with nothing but jitters and unspoken words. 

 

The sewers smelled awful as always, the two tugging up their masks to muffle the scent. They had managed to avoid the guards and residents of the sewers for the most part until they reached Changbin’s mother’s home. “Eomma?” The door creaked open, revealing a much frailer woman, and Changbin felt his heart drop. His mother looked as though she was ready to give out at any moment. She smiled brightly at the site of him and Felix, confusion clear in her eyes but happy to seem them nonetheless. 

 

“Changbin, my boy, it’s so good to see you,” She murmured, pulling him down for a tight hug. Changbin didn’t hesitate to hug his mother back with a grip of pure and utter love. A love he only had for her and Felix. A love so rare to him that no one really witnessed it. “What are you doing here? And Felix honey, you’ve grown so much. You have a real spirit to you,” the woman praised, pinching the boys cheeks lovingly. Felix let out a deep laugh. This woman was more of a mother to him than anyone had been before. And this was only his second time meeting her. 

 

“Eomma… We’re attacking the city. It’s time.” A heavy tone fell on him. “Eomma, you have to get to safety. There are camps outside and they know of you–” The frail woman lifted one hand up to silence her only son, opening her eyes and allowing him to look deep into the cloudiness of them. Changbin didn’t have to dig too deep to know that she was dying. “You’re dying,” Changbin whimpered gently, desperately grasping Felix’s hand when the younger’s fingers curled into his. His mother nodded gently. 

 

“I don’t have long. A few hours maybe. I wish you two luck. I’ll be watching over you, no matter what world you find yourselves in,” she whispered, tucking two amulets and two rings into Changbin’s free hand. “Love each other. Treat each other right.” She smiled gently before backing away and waddling back over to her chemistry table. Changbin clutched the items of jewelry tightly to suppress his tears and turned back towards Felix. Felix took it as his cue when Changbin handed him the bag of his old white, torn up clothes. 

 

The two were ready to go, leaving with their final goodbyes. “Goodluck,” Changbin’s mother called out before the door clicked shut softly, a part of Changbin seeping away when the essence of his mother faded into the air of the sewers she built with her own two hands. 

 

The couple reached their mark, now on the streets of the city, sneaking around quietly. When they neared a group of guards, they stopped in an alley and turned towards each other. Changbin tugged the amulets out of his pockets and slipped one over his head and the other over Felix’s. “In case anything goes wrong,” Changbin whispered before kissing the gold of the amulet and tugging on the chain to drag Felix into an equally soft and gentle kiss. “I love you.” The world rumbled around them for only a moment, the two exchanging soft words and kisses before getting on with it. “You ready?”

 

“As ready as I’ll ever be. Someone help me!” Felix screeched out suddenly, Changbin tensing up and hissing out a shut up loud enough for the nearby guards to hear. They faked a harsh slap. Suddenly, a swarm of guards corned the alley and Changbin was grabbed roughly. “Tell the council that Lee Felix is home.” Home. The word was bitter for Felix, but he acted out his relief, sending Changbin a wink as his lover was dragged away. Changbin sent him the same, subtle movement back. 

 

_ So far, so good.  _

 


	9. chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We’re going to be okay, love. I’m here. I’m here. We’re together. Love, it’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ONE MORE CHAPTER BITCHES

Not even alcohol could keep the whispers in Chan’s ears at bay. If anything, the whiskey just made it worse than it already was, and Chan felt like he was about to lose his head. His brain was throbbing against the inside of his skull and he couldn’t think straight. He hadn’t been able to think straight since he’d woke up this morning and was alone. Seungmin had left a note saying that his parents had come home, that he couldn’t stay, and had no idea when he was going to be back either. It hurt to know that Seungmin left without saying bye and that there was no telling when he would come back, but he had to keep in mind that Seungmin was still a teenager, living at home.

 

The day seemed to pass by slowly, but night time came all too quickly at the same time. Chan couldn’t take staying in the apartment surrounded by all the mirrors and ended up mindlessly wandering the streets until it was five o’ clock and the bars began to open for business. Chan had taken refuge at the one near his apartment, the place known for its investment in roaches and local gangs, but Chan cared very little at the time. He had little to no money and he just needed a cheap drink to get him by.

 

He ignored mostly everyone that tried chatting him up, the only words him speaking being his drink orders to the bartender. It seemed as though he was slowly digging his grave with every drink and every denied man. But Chan couldn’t get the whispers to go away. They were even drowning out the pumping music and the loud chatter of the people around him, getting collectively worse with every glass of cheap, watered down whiskey. Chan wanted to keep drinking though, at least to the point where he was passed out or his bartender cut him off. By his tenth glass, he didn’t notice the powder slipped inside last minute by the man beside him.

 

“Hey there.” _What a starter,_ Chan couldn’t help but roll his eyes and didn’t even bother to respond. “I’m talking to you.” The man playfully continued, thinking Chan just hadn’t heard him, but he had, and Chan just continued to ignore him. Chan could admit that he was good looking. yes, but that wasn’t why he was here; it would never be why he was here. “Come on, cutie, I don’t bite,” he whined lowly, but Chan still paid him no mind, completely oblivious to the look of pure and utter irritation on the stranger’s face. Chan’s mind was too clouded to think of any sort of consequences that could come out of this.

 

So, when the glass of slightly powdery whiskey was slid in front of him and the stranger glanced at him maliciously, Chan took it without question. The whispers grew in degree, spiking a headache in his temples. He whimpered and cried, tugging at his locks as he grumbled incoherent words to himself, everything appearing fuzzy and his body numb. Chan felt arms wrap around his waist as the man insisted on getting him out of there and walking him home, but the only thing Chan could make out clearly in his own head was that he didn’t want to go with this man.

 

Chan fought against him, shoving at his chest sloppily. “Let go!” Chan finally screeched, gathering the attention of others around him. The bar residents gazed at the sight in concern, a few men coming up to help pry the other off of Chan. The bartender even ordered security to escort the man out of the bar when he saw Chan’s dazed expression. Chan couldn’t even mutter out a thank you before slapping all the money he had in his pocket on the counter, which didn’t even pay half of his bill before leaving. The bartender paid off the rest.

 

Chan stumbled down the street without any sort of destination in mind. Maybe he’d end up at Seungmin’s shop, yelling out for him drunkenly and getting kicked out by his parents only to never see the younger again. Maybe he’d go to the nearest bridge and stumble off of it in a daze. Or maybe he’d go home, back to his apartment, and smash every single mirror there. It was a matter of where he got to first rather than what he wanted; because the only thing Chan wanted was to see Minho. There was nothing else. He just wanted Minho, and it was incredibly unhealthy because Chan was slowly killing himself because of that want.

 

It seemed as though the strings of fate guided Chan back to his apartment, the complex sign shining brightly in the distance in a white, flickering neon. A dopey smile eased up onto his lips as the neon seemed to wobble and shudder much like the turquoise swirls in his vision the first night him and Minho met. He stumbled around, watching them float past and reaching out to grab them in the air with a giggle. He looked like a child who was trying to pop all the bubbles in the air, but instead he was a twenty year old man, living off of very little food and losing the last little bit of sanity he had left.

 

It was sad to look at really. Chan had so much potential to make it big as a person and stay happy. But here he was, losing it on the side of the road with drugs and alcohol in his system and voices in his head. All Chan needed was a little help, even if it was a quick trip to the psych ward or one final dip into his insanity before dragging himself out with or without Minho tagging along.

 

But Chan didn’t like to think about what life would be like without Minho. Of course, he lived the hellish idea to a certain extent, but he knew _of_ Minho and ‘spoke’ with him regularly. Chan had completely and utterly fallen in love with the younger, and as he stumbled through his front door and saw his apartment covered from top to bottom with mirrors, he finally came to accept that fact. Minho had made him do this, not directly of course, but Chan gave into all of this because of Minho and now owned more mirrors than his whole apartment was probably worth. So much for paying this month’s rent.

 

The first thing Chan had attempted to do was to crawl up in bed and fall back into the world in between with Minho, but when he began to toss and turn from restlessness and was unable to fall asleep, his anger began to sizzle. He snapped his body up, a frown on his lips and eyebrows tugged down comically with his arms crossed over his chest. It felt like there was something creeping in the shadows of his room, a presence that he couldn’t see. Chan’s breath hitched in his throat as he began to panic in his head. Was someone there? Did someone break in? Chan’s voice came out in slurs as he babbled out into the darkness of the room.

 

“Is someone there? There better not be anyone there… I may be small and intoxicated but I won’t hesitate to knee you in the groin.” Chan paused for a moment. “Or punch you in the boob if you’re a girl.” A laugh, a very familiar laugh, echoed inside of Chan’s head, but it felt like it was actually in the room. Minho. “Minho?” Chan cracked, hearing the boys voice chime in his head and causing tears to flow from his eyes.

 

“Love… Go to sleep,” Minho’s echoing voice coaxed in his ear, Chan looking around frantically as if he had actually been there. Chan didn’t listen to him as the anger clouded his judgement and roughly got out of bed. He began screaming and raving, swinging at anything nearby and letting it fall to the ground with a crash. Chan could hear Minho panicking in his own head, begging him to stop, but nothing could be heard over his screams.

 

Chan hated all of this. He absolutely hated every little bit of it. He wanted out. He wanted to go back to reality. He didn’t want this anymore. He didn’t want the inbetween. He didn’t want the mirrors. He didn’t want the reflection. _He didn’t want Minho._ That’s what he told himself, over and over again as he smashed the mirrors and seeing his red blood splatter on the white walls and floors. He thought he was fixing it, getting rid of the whispers and the image of Minho’s face in his head, but nothing worked.

 

“I DON’T WANT THIS!” Chan screeched, tugging at his hair and ripping out some of the dead locks as he smashed his knuckles into the walls over and over again. His hands began to tremble and bleed, coming up to stain some of it onto his cheeks and let them twitch against his hands. It felt like someone was rubbing their thumbs over his bloodied knuckles and heart wrenching sobs began to spill from his mouth with mindless babbles.

 

He was causing an unspeakable amount of damage by smashing those mirrors against the walls. Chan didn’t think of the consequences when the large piece of glass smashed into tiny pieces instead. He didn’t think of what he was doing to both his body and Minho’s as the blood spilling from his skin landed on the pristine material, staining it forever. Chan wasn’t thinking when the blood stains began to appear on his soulmate’s knuckles when he punched the walls. _Chan wasn’t thinking._

 

The world went quiet.

 

Chan’s screams came to a halt, the smashing of the mirrors coming to a close and the relentless sobs fading out. Chan could now hear the dripping of water in the apartment next door, honks of cars a few blocks away, and the laughter of people across the street. He became hyper aware of everything, but slowly faded into his own head and truly felt someone there. Because when he looked into the white framed mirror and saw the reflection of a man he had completely devoted himself to, kneeled down behind him and nuzzling his face into Chan’s neck, it truly felt like he had been there.

 

He could feel the faint warmth of breath on his cold, sweaty neck, the nudge of a nose and graze of lips. He could feel callused fingertips grasping at his waist gently and the press of a chest against his back. Chan leaned forward, burying his face into the floor as if he we were fully kneeling to the most prized man on earth. His shoulders shook and quivered, sobs racking through him thickly as he tried to contain his blurry tears. Chan was drunk. He wasn’t thinking straight. It was the roofie. The roofie was making him see things. This wasn’t really Minho.

 

Chan didn’t want to believe it, because if it wasn’t true, he wasn’t sure he could handle it. Chan felt hands rub all up and down his back, the reassuring whispers in his ear too real for his liking. This felt too real for him. Too real for his brain to muster up. _“Love, it’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”_

  


Felix watched his father pace the ballroom in boredom, circling the clear straw in his glass with his finger with his chin rested in his palm. The council welcomed him back with false enthusiasm, Felix trying his best to keep his cool and snide comments to himself. Now, they were holding a party for his “welcome home” the night after, and Felix was already over the life he had grown up living. He was tired of the unending, enriched food that didn’t hold the proper nutrients he needed to survive and the sparkling water that burned his throat. The people here were too uptight for his liking and snarled their noses at one spec of dirt anywhere in sight outside of where it was supposed to be.

 

Felix wished he was back in the wasteland, in the infirmary learning about how to save a life with Changbin pressing gentle kisses to the back of his neck when he came back home. He wondered if Changbin was doing okay in the jail blocks surrounded by criminals, but Felix knew Changbin could take care of himself. That didn’t mean Felix couldn’t worry though. Realistically, it was the only thing he could do with the amount of boredom within the city walls. He had already read all the books the city approved of, which really hadn’t been that much, and his father didn’t want him drawing anything besides building blueprints. Felix hated the city, and it took an entire wasteland and Changbin to make him realize that.

 

A groan fell from his lips when he saw one of the council members approach him, Minho’s parents not too far behind, and anger sizzled in the pit of his stomach. Just seeing their faces was angering him far beyond what was healthy, but could anyone really blame Felix? They had disowned their own son, banishing him to the sewers to rot for the rest of his life. Minho was his best friend, his lifeline, and they had no right to try and take him away. “Hello, Felix!” Minho’s mother greeted excitedly with a wide smile. Felix forced one of his own onto his face, but anyone that wasn’t blind could see how strained it was.

 

“Hello, Mrs. Lee.”

 

“How are you? I know living in the wasteland for a while must have been hard –,” Felix tuned her out after that, snickering internally at the thought. Yes, it was challenging, but Felix would rather be there than here in this god awful room with these god awful clothes, talking with these god awful people. “Felix? Hon? You here with us?” Felix snapped out of his saddened daze and locked eyes with the woman who disowned her own son. Felix nodded his head. “Well, we won’t talk about this now. You’ll have plenty of time to discuss this at the trial.” And with that, the conversation ended with a breath of relief.

 

Moments later, the sound of a microphone being tapped rung throughout the room, and when Felix’s attention was drawn towards the stage, he felt his blood run cold. Soft murmurs began to echo throughout the room as a beaten down, chained up Changbin was forced onto the stage behind where his father stood, and Felix nibbled on his lower lip nervously. “Welcome, welcome everyone!” Felix’s dad greeted with enthusiasm, tapping against a glass of champagne with a metal fork to fully gather everyone’s attention. “Thank you for coming to welcome back my son, who has been through so many hardships –.” If only he knew. “But tonight… we are casting a vote.”

 

Changbin’s eyes flickered up for a moment, locking with Felix and winking towards the younger subtly. Felix relaxed a bit; despite this not being apart of the plan, it was obvious Changbin had been prepared for it. “This… disgusting wastelander held my son captive in the desert, forcing him to go without food for days on end and sit in the dark of a cell. Tonight, we vote if we should execute him or force him back out into the wasteland with a message.” The murmurs began to pick up in volume, everyone looking back at Felix in pity and curiosity. Felix’s father tapped the glass once more.

 

“You each had a slip of paper and a pen given to you when you entered. Write down your answer and place it in the box over there.” Felix’s father motioned towards the box near Changbin, a large rectangle structure made of pure crystal, and Felix winced at the sight. That box alone was probably worth more than Hwa-Su. People seemed to be pretty quick to vote, crowding around Felix and the box with their condolences and papers in hand. Felix felt like he was being suffocated by the multiple people surrounding him, and broke he through the crowd, breathing heavily.

 

Changbin saw the panic in Felix’s eyes, acting before he could think and surging forward, only to be stopped by the chains and the guards next to him. The room went quiet at the action, watching the guards beat their batons into Changbin’s stomach, the wastelander curling in on himself and grunting with every hit. Felix flinched every time, ready to storm up there and peel the batons away from their grimey hands and beat their heads into the floor. However, Changbin met his angry eyes and weakly shook his head, spitting out the blood dripping from his mouth onto the floor.

 

All hell broke loose after that, the guards beating Changbin down to the floor as Felix ran forward in a fit of adrenaline. However, arms came around him and Felix flew back slightly at the power used to stop him from going any further. Screams broke out in the crowd when Felix screamed out a loud, “Changbin!” He fought against his father’s arms to get out of his grip and tapped his bracelet wildly. Nothing was going to plan, this wasn’t supposed to go like this. Changbin snapped his head towards Felix, watching him struggle against his father with tears gushing down his cheeks. Adrenaline began to pump through Changbin, and his eyes glowed a bright white as a loud, ear piercing scream erupted from the deepest parts of his throat.

 

A bright light blasted from Changbin’s chest as he body flew up in the air and knocked everyone surrounding him back. When the light cleared, there was Changbin, hovering in the air with pure white robes and eyes and a metal staff with a crystal on top in his hands. The ink on his skin began to switch from black to white, and Felix could practically feel the power seeping from Changbin’s form on the other side of the room. The only thing that could be heard was the loud panting of both Felix and Changbin, looking around and seeing everyone on the ground, knocked out. Felix lifted his body up, avoiding the glass around him as the wind from outside began to brush through his hair and leave gentle kisses along his skin.

 

“Changbin,” Felix croaked, approaching Changbin with hesitance. Changbin lowered to the ground, his feet and staff hitting the ground with an echo. “What was that –,” Felix was cut off by something cold pressed against the back of his head and he froze in place, not daring to move an inch. Changbin watched the person behind Felix intensely, not daring to move either.

 

“One more move, Seo Changbin,” Felix’s father’s voice echoed calmly, Felix feeling tears well up in his eyes. This was his father holding a gun to his head. This was his father threatening to take his life. _This was his father_ . “This is the second time you’ve become a nuisance to my city. You don’t belong here. You’re not from this world, and I’m not going to let you destroy it either.” A dark chuckle escaped Changbin without a thought, his dark eyes fading back into the pure white they had been before as Felix felt like his whole world was crashing down around him. _He needed answers._

 

“I am afraid that you are unaware of how powerful I am, Mr. Lee. Your world, your universe, is merely a tiny speck amongst the billions I have to look over. Mr. Lee, I could destroy your world with a snap of my fingers if I truly wanted to.” It may have seemed like Changbin was bluffing, but he truly wasn’t. Changbin was a universe alone, not to mention the glue holding them all together. Changbin could destroy Eun if he wanted to, but that was not his right. Felix’s head felt like it was spinning at the thought, because he had fallen for someone who was so much bigger than him. Changbin was someone who could have anything he wanted, so who was Felix to risk him getting hurt?

 

He could feel his father’s shaky breaths behind him, clearly misinterpreting what Changbin was capable of. However, something wild seemed to flicker in the back of his head, and he quickly brought Felix into a choke hold and pressed the gun against his temple. “If you take away my world, I’ll take away yours.” Felix’s breath hitched in his throat when he saw fear strike in the depths of Changbin’s pure white eyes. “You thought I didn’t know the minute Felix came back? He came back unscathed and insisted on seeing you himself during your questioning. I know love when I see it.” Something inside Felix’s father’s voice sounded broken, something Felix hadn’t heard in a very long time.

 

Changbin’s face softed to an extent, but it was so slight only someone like Felix could pick up on it. “You cannot blame her death on me, Mr. Lee. She was the one who took her own life, as sad as it was.” Felix felt his blood ran cold. His mother had left them a while ago, but she was still alive. There was no way they could be talking about her. “I know you loved her. I know the system broke her mentally and she couldn’t carry on anymore. But I did not choose her. All of it was a glitch created by the last overseer. It doesn’t have to be this way.” Changbin gave Mr. Lee a firm reality check. “Put the gun down… Before you take your own son’s life.”

 

The metal gun fell to the ground along with a pool of tears. “Go. Before I change my mind,” the man hissed before shoving Felix forward and sending him stumbling to the ground. Changbin rushed forward, grabbing at Felix’s biceps to help him back up onto his feet. The two locked eyes for a moment. Felix had so many questions, but Changbin didn’t have the time to answer any of them. Because as soon as they were in each other’s grip, the doors burst open and swarms of guards entered the room.

 

Changbin sucked in a harsh breath and let his eyes flutter shut, everything stopping around them. Felix’s eyes had been screwed shut, shielding himself in Changbin’s chest, but when he realized that the guard’s screams and gunfire had come to a halt, he snapped them open. Changbin’s eyes remained pure white and his tattoos seemed to shine a bit brighter, “W-What’s going on?” Felix’s voice cracked, melting into the warm palms cupping his cheeks and stroking along his cheek bones. Changbin heaved a sigh.

 

“I don’t have enough time to answer all your questions, love. But I have to know if you’re willing to stay with me. I have to know if you’re here with me 100% before I do what I’m about to do.” The question had been heavy, something that Felix would think about any other time. But he knew that Changbin didn’t have time for him to think about this. This was going to put their love and trust for one another to the test. “Love, do you trust me?” Felix stuttered in shock at the question. “Felix!” His babbling stopped. “Do. You. Trust. Me?”

 

Felix nodded his head. Changbin moved his hands down to clasp Felix’s hands in his own tightly. A bright light consumed them, and as quick as they were there in the start of the gunfire, they were nowhere to be seen seconds later. _Almost as if they had disappeared into another world._

  


Minho’s sword swung left and right, cutting into yet another guard with a white suit. Blood spilled on the ground and splattered onto Minho’s face, the man breathing in for a moment to look around. He locked eyes with Hyunjin and shared a look with him before four guards approached and the two counted to three before barreling towards them. Hyunjin jumped onto the taller guard with a cry, wrapping his thighs around his upper torso and stabbing his dagger into the vein in his neck. The two went stumbling to the ground, but Hyunjin flipped backwards and landed on his feet as the guard clutched at his throat, gurgling noises filling their ears as blood spilled onto the concrete beneath them.

 

Minho took out two in one go, swiping his white, neon blade along the guard’s chest and flicking it back towards the other to stab straight through his stomach, picking him up and off of the ground for a split moment. The guard’s body fell to the ground with a thud. The last guard was running towards a completely oblivious Hyunjin, but before Minho could call out to warm Hyunjin, a tomahawk came flying by Minho’s face and hit the guard square in the skull, sending his body flying to the ground. Minho turned and saw Jae with ice practically falling all around him. “Keep your eyes open!” Jae warned before starting down the road and nearing the capital building.

 

Hyunjin and Minho darted after him, making sure he didn’t get cornered or hurt. Minho could feel the anger in his heart as he neared, hoping to the gods above that Felix and Changbin were okay. Felix had signaled frantically not even an hour ago, and Minho needed to know that Felix wasn’t hurt. At that moment, Wonpil and Dowoon came rushing down on their horses, approaching them speedily. “What’s going on? Is Felix okay?” Minho rushed out as soon as they were in ear reach.

 

“Felix and Changbin are gone. No one knows where they’re at. His father committed suicide, and the council has taken some of the residents hostage. The capitol building is practically impenetrable,” Dowoon breathed out, the flowers from the trees breathing with him and flying all around them like some sort of tornado. Minho felt his heart sink into his chest, but when Dowoon spoke up, he had more concerning things to focus on. “Minho, you haven’t been punching people to death have you?” Minho snapped his gaze down to his hands and saw blood pouring from his knuckles.

 

Suddenly, a hiss fell from his lips as sharp pains began to spike his nerves and his knuckles began to throb. “It’s not- it’s not…” Minho couldn’t even finish his sentence. It wasn’t his blood. It wasn’t his injury. “Chan,” Minho murmured under his breath, face paling considerably as everyone stared at him in confusion. However, Wonpil’s face fell.

 

“You’re one of us…”

 

No one had time to to ask further questions; an explosion had gone off in the upper city, and half of the capitol building was in ruins. They couldn’t wait any longer. Soon, everyone was on a war path towards the capital, Minho at the front with nothing but red in his eyes. The blood from his knuckles became worse and worse as time passed, and Minho knew he had to get this over with. He could feel a part of himself waning, fading out into nothing at all. He killed guards left and right, holding no mercy until he was in front of a familiar set of doors.

 

He took a deep breath, going to push them open, but the large doors that lead into the council meeting room didn’t budge. Minho took a deep breath before he began to kick at it violently, throwing himself harshly at the door and busting it open with his shoulder. Inside were the council members, quivering in fear and staring at him in shock. “Hello,” Minho greeted with a bite in his voice, stepping inside and letting his black boots echo against the ground. Despite it being almost two months since he’d seen them last, Minho had changed. He had grown stronger in spirit and his parents could sense that.

 

“Minho,” his mother breathed, staring at him with an audible gulp. Minho tugged down his black hood to fully reveal himself to the people who had exiled him. He wanted them to feel the power he held in his fingertips. He wanted them to quiver before him, just as he had during the trial. He would make them suffer. “Minho… we can save the city. Together! Leave those disgusting men behind and be with your family, Minho. They don’t want anything but bad things from you. Once we’re dead, they will kill you. They won’t risk you rising to power –”

 

“Stop.” She closed her mouth when he raised his palm, revealing the familiar symbol of the inbetween on his palm and letting his eyes glow for a moment. “You are only describing yourself, mother. You casted me into the sewers without another thought. You disowned me without really listening to what I had to say. I was always a good kid mother, but one wrongdoing and suddenly… I’m in a dark cell at the bottom of the city trying to keep myself alive,” Minho snapped, his voice growing softer with every word he said. “And you know what? The only thing that’s kept me going is knowing that I’ll make you suffer and reveal the truth to the city.”

 

Suddenly, the region leaders were at the door with Hyunjin and Woojin behind them, watching the whole ordeal for a moment. “Ah. Mrs. Lee. It’s been a very long time.” Jae smirked before drawing an arrow made of pure, solid ice and aiming for another council member, letting it plunge straight into his eye.

 

A fight broke out, his mother reaching for her sword and lunging it towards Minho’s chest, but he caught it just before it could pierce his skin, gripping it until blood was spilling from his palm. “Nice try mother.” Minho grinned wickedly before turning it back towards her and letting it plunge straight into her chest. She let out a gasp, clutching at the weapon and stupidly pulling it out. The blood began to flow with more pace and ease, the light dying from his mother’s eyes, and Minho looked up to face his father. “Your turn.”

 

Minho felt like he was on cloud nine when the council members were served justice, all of them lying about like lifeless, little dolls. In a way, it was haunting, but Minho knew Eun could move on with their days without having to worry about the capital any longer. It wasn’t over. The war had just began, because as strict as the Capital was, there are allies who could do worse, and the regions would have to be careful with their next few moves. “Minho. We would like to speak with you,” Sungjin spoke up from behind him, Minho standing up straight and looking over his shoulder to face the leader.

 

“We have been discussing adding another region leader. The capital city will have residents without homes, and we know you are trustworthy enough for the roll. That is… if we win the war.” The thought had been warm in Minho’s heart, but it didn’t quite line up with the boy’s plans. Minho offered them a side smile before shaking his head.

 

“It’s flattering to receive such an offer, but I am afraid I have some of my own plans… There is someone I have to see.” Minho smiled to himself fondly as he stroked his bloodied knuckles with his thumbs. “I have to get going. Thank you so much.” And with that, Minho escaped from of the capital as quick as a blink of an eye, but not before Wonpil stopped him.

 

“You’re going to Earth, no?” Minho nodded his head and looked down at his hand when Wonpil slipped a medallion into his palm. It looked like some sort of family heirloom. “I need you to find someone for me. Kim Seungmin. He lives in Seoul, Korea. He… He was someone who meant a lot to me.” Minho had no room to deny such a request. Wonpil had given him hope and allowed Minho to rest peacefully knowing he has gotten the justice he so desperately deserved. “Thank you,” Wonpil hushed, pulling him in for a hug and letting him go. “Be careful… You’re going to be okay.”

 

Thunder rumbled and boomed in the gray sky above Minho as his horse’s hooves pounded against the desert ground. Rain began to drizzle, but the wind flying by him didn’t allow his hood to stay up. “Come on, girl. Just a bit faster.” The mountain was approaching, Minho feeling like his chest was going to tighten too much for him to be able to breathe. He was so close. So close to being with his one and only. At least that's what the voices in his head were telling him. The sanctuary was calling his name, beckoning him forward, and Minho could not deny them.

 

The ivy covering the entrance of the cave glowed brightly. Minho jumped off of his horse and petted her gently to show his gratitude. “You’ve been kind to me. Now go live.” Minho smacked at her back and motioned for her to go. The white horse rushed off into the forest and disappeared into the trees. Minho turned towards the cave entrance, hearing the wind whistle from inside. He backed towards the entrance, his feet slipping off the cliff and falling into the cavern below. Everything that had been pink before was now a pure white; Minho stared up into the eye above before his back hit the water.

 

Minho lifted himself up, feeling warm and comfortable in the water but knowing he had to get going. The water was gorgeous, glittering with white stars and Minho couldn’t help but wonder if he would find this many stars in the white of Chan’s eyes when they were finally together. Minho managed to reach the outskirts of the main cavern and crossed the bridge to the island in the middle where he had met I.N. and Han. Minho had been the only being in that cave system that night, but he didn’t feel alone, because the white of the glow twinkled and shined with souls from other worlds.

 

The blood from his knuckles dripped onto the rock beneath his feet as Minho lied down, arms at his sides and legs slumped against the ground. The rock seemed as if it was supposed to be uncomfortable, but the singing of the plants, the movement of water, and the booming thunder from outside coaxed Minho’s eyes shut, and suddenly, he was back in the same black world from before.

 

Except, there had been no wall. In front of him was a bed, a familiar gray haired boy lying inside and babbling mindlessly to the world around him. The figure was blurry, but Minho could tell it was Chan and that he was indeed drunk. However, Minho couldn’t help but giggle at this and stepped forward until his lips were right by his ear. “ _Love, go to sleep_.” Minho saw anger cloud Chan’s eyes and he quickly got out of bed, walking straight through Minho’s body. Minho turned and watched, watching him bash his knuckles against the wall repeatedly and throw mirrors everywhere.

 

Minho was being forced back, the wall appearing between them as Chan threw a mirror across the room. Minho desperalty clawed at the closing hole, his entrance into Chan’s world. “No no no,” Minho wailed as the wall was closing to the size of Minho’s arm, his voice scratchy as he screamed out a loud, wall shattering, “Bang Chan, I love you!” The wall shattered underneath the pressure of Minho’s voice and hands, Minho falling through the shattered glass and down below.

 

The black walls around him disappeared and were replaced by a small bedroom that was in terrible condition. Chan kneeled down on the ground and sobbed hysterically in front of a white framed mirror. Minho almost couldn’t believe it, the world around them going quiet as Minho kneeled down behind him and wrapped himself around Chan’s body for the first time. Tears began to leak from his eyes as he desperately clung himself to Chan’s back and nuzzled his face into the elder’s neck. Now that Minho had him, he wouldn’t let go, especially with the state he’s found Chan in.

 

They were finally together, finally touching, finally in the same world, where they could be happy. It made their heart’s lurch because this was all they ever wanted. All they wanted was to be together.

 

“We’re going to be okay, love. I’m here. I’m here. We’re together. _Love, it’s okay. It’s going to be okay_ _.”_

 

And Chan believed it.

 

[Moodboard](https://twitter.com/atumun15/status/998679782660427776)  
  



	10. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I know. God, I know. I love you too. Promise me it'll stay like this, Minho. Promise me you'll love me, because I didn't nearly go insane only for you to leave me in the future. Promise me you'll stay no matter what."
> 
> "Always."

A whimper bounced off of the walls when Minho gently pressed a damp cloth to Chan’s bloodied, throbbing knuckles. He was propped up on the sink, Chan between his thighs, a few hours after he’d finally broke through. Their heads still felt like they were in some sort of dream-like haze, occasionally pinching the other or themselves to make sure this was in fact real. It had all happened too quickly for their brains to process it all. But here they were, no wall separating them and hindering anything they wanted to do together. “Thanks, darling,” Chan hushed when Minho finished wrapping his knuckles with the gauze.

 

Minho offered him a tender smile and patted the tops of Chan’s hands gently. “You should be more careful. We really need to clean up the mess too.” Minho frowned at the idea of all the broken glass throughout the apartment. The images of Chan’s tantrum never quite left his head; he didn’t like the anger and hysteria Chan had shown from just a few short words from the younger. Of course, Minho was aware of the state of Chan’s mind during the time, but seeing it in person was scary, and in a way, Minho felt guilty for feeling that way.

 

“I think you need a shower first, darling. You reek,” Chan grinned cheekily, moving his wrapped up hands so they were massaging the younger’s plush, dirt and blood ridden cheeks. Minho rolled his eyes and scowled at him, crossing his arms over his chest childishly, calling him out for being so rude. Chan chuckled lowly, for the first time in a very long time, and it sounded genuine and full of love. “I only speak the truth,” Chan whined when Minho began to smack at his chest weakly. “I’ll be right back.” Something shifted in Minho when Chan moved away, and the younger desperately clutched at the back of his shirt and dragged him back.

 

“Don’t go!” The request was quick and sharp, Chan slumping at the pleading tone behind the words. Minho looked shy when Chan met his eyes, nibbling on his lower lip when he realized that he was possibly being too selfish. He knew he was being silly, but Minho was scared. He was scared this was some sort of sick dream to make him believe that they weren’t really together. That as soon as Chan walked out that door, he wouldn’t come back. Chan smiled gently and placed his hands on the boy’s thighs, rubbing gently and telling him he was just getting clothes. “Right… Sorry.”

 

Chan giggled and grasped Minho’s chin, pressing their lips together tenderly before pulling away, stroking his jawline. Chan slowly pulled himself out of Minho’s grip, escaping out of the bathroom with his heart beating wildly in his chest. The soft grin never left his lips as he dodged the broken glass to grab a pair of oversized boxers and a red hoodie that reeked of Chan’s cologne. He couldn’t believe that Minho was finally here. Chan could finally touch and talk to Minho without the glass wall between each other. They were finally free and together and Chan couldn’t be more hopeful of his future.

 

Chan successfully dodged the glass again on his way back to the bathroom, preparing himself for Minho to not be there and for him to wake up on the hardwood floor, alone, surrounded by nothing but broken mirrors. But no. Minho was sitting on the sink counter, swaying his legs like a little kid and playing with the fabric of the robes draped over him. Chan thought they were interesting, but he knew they were going to have to go shop for clothes, because Minho couldn’t walk around in those. “Here’s your clothes.” Chan gently sat them in Minho’s lap, bending down to turn the knobs of the shower and waiting for the water to heat up. “Turn them clockwise to adjust the temperature. It can be pretty finicky. The left one is cold and the right one is hot.”

 

When Chan got done explaining, he went to leave and give Minho his privacy, but Minho caught Chan’s thighs with his calves and tugged him forward. Chan laughed a bit and stepped in between Minho’s thighs like he had done before and let Minho bury his face into the elder’s neck and embrace him tightly. They stayed like that for a while, Chan running his palms along the small of Minho’s back and peppering gentle kisses against the side of his head. “Alright, seriously. If I hold you any longer, I’ll need a shower too,” Chan joked and pried himself away from Minho, who pouted like a small child.

 

As soon as the bathroom door shut, the two felt calm. Minho stripped himself of his clothes and got in the shower without another thought, his muscles relaxing under the warmth. Chan, however, had a much more tedious job. He grabbed the broom and slipped on some house shoes before sweeping up the glass in the apartment, making sure he got all of it in a general area before he began to pick up the broken frames and take them outside to the trash chute. Outside, his neighbor was smoking a cigarette, and she locked eyes with him and shot him a look of concern. “You okay? You were screaming and things were smashing. I almost called the cops…,” she trailed off cautiously, and Chan chuckled as he shoved the broken pieces down the hole.

 

“Yeah, yeah, sorry. It shouldn’t be a reoccurring thing anymore,” Chan replied shortly before walking back into his apartment with a smile. He never thought he’d actually say those words with the context behind it, but it made him feel good about himself. Chan knew he wasn’t going to get better right off that bat, but there was hope that maybe, one day, he could be happy and content with his life. And until then… he had Minho on his long climb up. Chan actually had Minho… it still hadn’t quite registered in his head.

 

Faintly, Minho’s muffled singing was heard over the water in the shower and the screeching sound of glass scratching against the floors, and Chan giggled to himself softly. Minho’s voice sounded like honey, and Chan found himself leaning his cheek against the broom and letting his eyes droop closed for a moment just to listen to his soft vocals. Chan didn’t recognize the song, but he didn’t have to for him to know that Minho made it sound absolutely gorgeous and Chan couldn’t wait to listen to it more.

 

Eventually, the water stopped, and Chan had cleaned up for the most part by the time Minho was out of the bathroom, letting the steam from the shower filter out into the apartment. Chan glanced up from cleaning the counters to see Minho standing in his clothes with wet hair and clean skin, and his heart jumped. “Hey, darling. Feel better?” Chan inquired casually, trying his best to keep his cool. Minho hummed gently and looked around in interest. The apartment, despite Chan tidying up for almost an hour, was still a mess and so ungodly cluttered. But Minho didn’t mind. He saw a lot of potential for the place.

 

While Minho seemed hopeful, all of the complications to having Minho here began to set in. He wasn’t in the system and this meant that Minho couldn’t get a job, couldn’t go to the hospital, and definitely couldn’t pay his own bills. The stress of the situation was starting to get to Chan, and Minho could sense it before it got too bad. Arms twined around Chan’s waist as a head was buried into his shoulder, Chan relaxing underneath the brush of lips on his exposed shoulder. “You’re thinking too much,” Minho laughed, loosening his grip a bit so Chan could turn around in his arms. Chan grazed his thumbs along the younger’s jawline.

 

“I’m just remembering how complicated the system is here. I have no idea how to get you in it so you can get a job and actually become apart of the community.” Minho cocked his head to the side for a moment, patting at Chan’s pockets before digging into them and grabbing Chan’s phone. “Babe!” Chan grunted, going to take the device out of his hand but Minho shifted away with a giggle. Chan leaned back against the counter with a huff, and just let Minho do what he wanted to do. Minho scrolled for a while, until he seemed to find what he was looking for.

 

“Apparently we can just go to the hospital and ask for a check up. That’ll get it started if we just explain the situation.” Chan’s eyebrows shot up with a bemused smile. “Not all of it obviously, you idiot, but we’ll make up a story that works. I can get on the same thing with you and then bam, I’ll apply for a job.” Minho shrugged like it was really that simple. Chan just rolled his eyes and slipped his phone back into his pocket before hoisting Minho up and over his shoulder. “Chan!” Minho shrieked loudly, hitting his back with loud laughs as Chan pulled them towards the now cleaned up bedroom.

 

Minho landed on the mattress with a high pitched laugh, Chan crawling on top of him and pinning his arms down with a playful grin. “It’s too late for your sass, darling. I think sleep is much needed,” Chan murmured, Minho humming in agreement. Chan lifted himself up and off of Minho, padding over to his drawers and pulling out a t-shirt and black sweatpants before excusing himself to the bathroom to change. Chan was about to leave, freshly changed, when he caught sight of himself in the mirror, and he stopped abruptly.

 

It felt a lot more different than from before. Maybe it was the lack of yearning in his chest or the awakening in his brain, but Chan didn’t feel as… _desperate_ when he looked in the mirror now. The boy humming to himself quietly in the other room was gluing Chan back together without even realizing it, and it scared Chan to an extent with how much power Minho held over him. But it wasn’t something Chan could dwell on now. Not with his system still buzzing from Minho and the alcohol and the moon low in the sky signaling that morning was just around the corner.

 

Chan padded back into the bedroom, seeing Minho snuggled under the covers, holding a book close to his chest with a sheepish smile. “Will you read to me? Like we did back in the in between?” Chan grinned to himself at their old habits and took it out of Minho’s hands when he was comfortable in bed as well. Minho rested his head on Chan’s shoulder, one of his arms draped over Chan’s waist while the elder had the book resting up right on his chest and the other wrapped around Minho’s shoulder. It was comfortable and warm, making it so neither one wanted to move.

 

Minho fell asleep to the sound of Chan’s soothing voice and his fingers brushing through his hair. It didn’t take Chan much longer to realize Minho had fallen asleep, and he carefully shut the book after marking his place and set it on the nightstand, turning off the light in the process. Chan settled into the curve of Minho’s body and let his mind come to a close and his hands settle. He was no longer trembling and he could breathe again. He had never felt so at peace.

 

The next morning, Chan woke up feeling like a part of him was filling up. Like one of the many holes in his chest had been filled in and he no longer had to worry about stepping in it. Beside him, Minho was buried in the tan sheets and had one finger curled around the loose fabric of Chan’s shirt. The silver haired man stretched and yawned, turning over so he was on his side and scooting closer towards Minho. Minho didn’t seem to notice the sudden weight change on the bed, and Chan smirked to himself before placing his hand on the side of Minho’s face, pulling his hair back before pressing tender kisses all along the side of Minho’s head and face.

 

Minho awoke with a slight purr, stretching out as if he were some sort of cat before turning to face Chan and settling back into the elder’s body. Minho was practically a puddle in Chan’s hands as the elder continued his motion of cradling Minho’s head and sweeping his hair back to place kisses anywhere he could reach. “Channie, that tickles,” Minho murmured sleepily, but he didn’t move away in the slightest. Instead, he twined his arms around the elder’s waist and tugged himself closer. Chan chuckled and pressed a final kiss to his forehead before resting his cheek on top of the younger’s head.

 

“I just realized we don’t have any food in this house,” Chan grumbled, his stomach agreeing loudly. Minho laughed at the vibrations of Chan’s stomach and peeled his head back to stare at Chan for a moment. “Wanna go out and eat? I can show you around today –,” Chan was cut off by the sound of his phone blaring from beside him and both of them flinched. The elder began to grumble to himself as he reached around for it, unplugging it and answering it without another thought. “What?” Minho slapped at Chan’s chest and mouthed ‘rude’ towards him. “Sorry, good morning.” Minho huffed.

 

“Yeah right, hyung. Where are you?” Chan sat up at the sound of Jisung’s voice, the guilt from the other day’s events hitting him like a train. Chan tried to apologize, but Jisung was quick to cut him off. “I know hyung, I don’t blame you. Now tell me where you are, we need to talk.” Chan had never heard Jisung sound so serious before, so he didn’t delay to tell him he was at home. “I’m coming over.” Chan screamed out for him to order breakfast right before Jisung hung up, hoping it went through.

 

Jisungie: I’ll get breakfast

 

Chan cheered and shifted so his legs were hanging off of the edge of the bed. “My friend is on the way. I hope you don’t mind,” Chan trailed off sheepishly once he realized that he didn’t exactly live alone anymore. Minho just shrugged; he seemed to be a bit nervous, claiming they needed to make up some sort of story, but Chan just shook his head. “He already knows about you, darling. We don’t need to worry about that with him,” Chan said as he stood up, looking at his phone to see what his schedule for the week would be. Chan silently cheered when he realized he didn’t have work today but groaned when he saw he had a lecture later during the evening.

 

“What?” Minho inquired, sitting up to look around the room with a yawn and dragging his knees to his chest underneath the covers.

 

“I have a lecture tonight,” Chan grumbled. “I might skip it.” Minho was quick to argue, threatening him that if he didn’t go to the lecture, he would shove his shoe so far up his ass, it’d come out of his mouth. Chan’s head tilted back as he laughed, shoulders shaking and dimples on show. “So feisty.” Minho just winked. Chan went through his closet and pulled out a pair of black jeans that might fit Minho, an orange hoodie, and a jean jacket, throwing it at him. “Get dressed. He’s probably pulling up now.”

 

Not even five minutes later, quick, frantic knocks came at the door, and Chan was just slipping on a clean shirt when he opened it. He stopped abruptly when he didn’t just see Jisung and Jeongin but four other guys behind them that Chan didn’t recognize. His eyes raked over all of them one by one, but stopped on a raven haired boy with a mole under his eye and a bright smile. “Uh…” Chan gawked, shooting Jisung a look of pure confusion. “Hi?” Jisung just rolled his eyes and shoved Chan aside and walked into the apartment, locking eyes with a confused looking Minho. Until he saw everyone behind him.

 

The jacket Minho held slipped from his grip and got discarded on the ground as he stared wide-eyed at everyone in front of him. Of course, it had only been a day since he last saw them, but Minho didn’t actually think he’d ever see them again. “I- What are you doing here?” Minho choked out, slowly approaching them. However, when Felix stepped forward and slightly opened his arms, Minho couldn’t help but run into them. Tears threatened to spill from his eyes as he cradled Felix close to his chest, his grip too tight for Felix to wiggle out of it. “Fuck. I thought you were dead.”

 

Felix let out a snort at the idea, shaking his head. “Can’t get rid of me that easily, hyung.” Chan stood off to the side in confusion, watching the whole scene in front of him with raised eyebrows. Jeongin came up behind him, slipped an arm around his waist, and leaned his head against his shoulder. Jeongin didn’t have to speak to let Chan know that he was asking if he was okay, and for once, Chan nodded his head yes and meant it. Chan was okay. Maybe not bouncing off of the walls with happiness, but he was okay. And that's all that mattered. “You didn’t think we were going to just let you cross the barriers without us, did you? The war didn’t call for us anymore.”

 

Minho raised his eyebrows at this, flickering his eyes to Woojin and Hyunjin in disbelief. The raven haired boy spoke up. “Eun is… Eun needs to be reset, as Changbin likes to say. It cannot handle another war.” Minho’s face dropped. Reset was something that meant a lot more than just delete and restart for them. Anyone who lived in the capital knew what reset truly meant for anything. Chan could see it from a mile away, but he wanted to know why it unsettled his lover so much. Maybe he’d ask about it later. “We have to stay here for a while.”

 

Minho gulped audibly and nodded. “And the region leaders?” Hyunjin merely smiled sadly and Minho let out a sob. The boy felt his body go limp, nearly falling to the floor, but Chan surged forward and wrapped him up in his arms, whispering sweet reassurances into his ears. Minho did nothing but clutch the collar of Chan’s shirt and nod, letting out choked sobs and gurgles. Everyone watched the two interact with despair in their eyes, happy that Minho had found happiness and peace within Chan, but not liking the fact that Minho was so emotionally broken at the moment.

 

Chan managed to shift them over towards the couch and sit down on it, Minho in his lap. The elder motioned for the others to sit down as well, everyone crowding in the lounge and letting Minho calm down while they made light conversation. “I’m afraid I might know your names, but I can’t put names with faces,” Chan trailed off awkwardly while rubbing gentle circles into Minho’s back. Minho huffed in amusement at how awkward his lover was and shifted his head to croak out their names.

 

“The shorty with the ink is Changbin, he’s the reason we were in this mess –,” Changbin groaned and flipped Minho off, “– The couple who are trying to worm their way into each other’s arms is Hyunjin and Woojin.” They blushed and took it as their cue to actually just cuddle. “And that’s Felix.” Minho didn’t have to say anything for Chan to know exactly who Felix was, the silver haired man shooting the freckled boy a thankful smile, who took it with an equal amount of gratitude for Chan. “And this is Chan.” Minho gently patted Chan’s chest before pressing a gentle kiss to his jawline and everyone groaning in disgust. “Hey! I’ve seen you lot do worse.” Minho pointed towards Changlix and 2Jin.

 

Chan snickered lightly at this but was caught off guard by Hyunjin being incredibly blunt and saying, “You’re attractive.” A blush settled on his cheeks as Minho pointed towards the younger, telling him to stay loyal and away from Chan. “Hey, I’m loyal. I just like to look.” Woojin rolled his eyes at this but didn’t call him out for it; this was probably pretty regular. “Besides… it’s pretty damn obvious I’m head over heels for this fool anyway.” Hyunjin lightly shoved Woojin, who dragged Hyunjin tighter into his body with a smile. However, Hyunjin also winked dramatically in Chan’s direction, who played along and winked back. Minho grunted, smacking Chan upside the head while threatening to throw a book Hyunjin’s way. “You won’t.”

 

Minho thought for a moment, stroking his imaginary beard for a moment before nodding his head. “You’re right. I don’t need you tainting my precious book.” Everyone snickered at this, Hyunjin clapping his hands and laughing. Everything fell into place quickly, but Chan still felt like there was something missing… _Seungmin_.

 

“Do you guys want to go visit a friend?”

 

The Kim family shop approached quickly, Chan’s fingers twined with Minho’s as the other six goofed around like a bunch of children. Minho clutched the medallion in his pocket the closer he got, a feeling in his stomach that maybe, just maybe, he might be able to achieve what Wonpil asked of him. Chan held open the door for Minho and the rest of boys, and once everyone was inside, locked eyes with the boy behind the counter, who was staring at everyone with wide eyes. “Chan was is this?” Seungmin breathed out, tapping his fingers against the counter nervously. However, before Chan could respond, Minho stepped forward.

 

“You’re Seungmin right?” Seungmin nodded warily, flinching back when Minho outstretched his arms. Minho retracted for a moment, but it wasn’t out of any sort of loss of hope. “I’m Minho.” He offered the younger a warm smile, watching the anxiety leave Seungmin’s eyes, and he allowed Minho to pull him into a hug. “Thank you for taking care of him,” Minho hushed into Seungmin’s ear. Seungmin nodded shakily. Minho pulled away for a moment, pulling out a medallion and letting it hang in the air. “I believe this belongs to you.”

 

“Wonpil…” And then they were 9.

 

Two weeks had passed, and Minho and Chan had fallen into a routine that they were both content with. Chan now went to his uni classes and worked regularly without feeling like he was going to lose his head while Minho did odd jobs around the neighborhood to make extra cash. Chan hadn’t been entirely comfortable with the idea at first, but Minho had said, “Love, I literally fought in a war in my old world. Trust me, I can take care of a few druggies if it comes down to it.” Chan still snickered at the thought of his rather childish lover hurting anybody, but the thought didn’t necessarily surprise him either.

 

Things had become a lot more bearable for him. Waking up in the morning with Minho snuggled into the mattress beside him, snoring softly, was something that helped calm Chan’s heart, and the elder always tried to show how much he adored Minho by leaving him breakfast and lunch when he had to work or had lectures in the morning. “I’m going, darling. I’ll see you later.” Chan pressed a gentle kiss to the boy’s cheek before running his fingers through his hair and going to leave. However, Minho caught his wrist and turned his head so he was looking up at Chan, bleary eyed and pouty lipped.

 

“Can’t you stay home and cuddle?” Minho whined, making Chan laugh and shake his head. Minho groaned and dropped Chan’s hand to snuggle back into his pillows and give him the silent treatment. Chan snickered at his lover and shook his head before sitting down on the edge of the bed and rubbing his palms into his back. Minho reluctantly turned his head to look at Chan with false anger in his eyes.

 

“How about we meet up for lunch, hm?” This seemed to lighten Minho’s mood considerably. “Down at the cafe you like so much. I get off work at 1:30, so let’s meet there at 1:45,” Chan planned, and this brought a smile to his lips. Minho sat up, straight hair messily laid out on his head as he leaned towards Chan. “Kiss?” Minho rolled his eyes at his lover’s puckered lips and pecked them, falling back onto the bed like a ragdoll. Chan left after that, a grin evident on his lips as he walked with a slight pep in his step.

 

The time for Chan to leave work came around quickly, almost too quickly in his opinion. Chan and Jisung had been working on a new song that they had been planning on releasing on their own, and it seemed like he didn’t have enough time in the day to work on it now. “Don’t worry, Channie hyung. Go on and eat with lover boy and I’ll work on this. I don’t have to leave for another hour,” Jisung teased while checking the time on his watch. Chan ruffled the younger’s hair before leaving and muttering out a quick thank you.

 

Chan wasn’t sure why he was so jittery all of the sudden, but as he neared the coffee shop, an itch underneath his skin told him that something was going to happen. A gentle smile grew on his lips when he saw Minho sat at a table coffee already in hand as he read a book, glass resting on the tip of his nose. Chan couldn’t help but coo at him slightly as he approached the younger. Minho was so caught up in his book that he didn’t even notice Chan enter the shop, so he wrapped the younger up in a loose choke hold and pressed a sloppy kiss to his cheek, completely unaware to the pair of eyes watching them from across the shop. “Afternoon, darling.”

 

Minho glanced up from his book and at Chan, providing a kind smile and puckering his lips for a real kiss. Chan pressed their lips together for a lingering kiss but pulled away to sit down. “Hey, love,” Minho greeted so softly that Chan barely heard it, but it was so ungodly endearing to see the younger’s cheek rested against his palm as his lips lifted into a pouty smile. “I ordered you a coffee but I didn’t know what you wanted to eat,” Minho hushed, closing his book and taking off his glasses. Chan hummed, sipped his coffee with a grin, and nodded his head.

 

“Thanks, darling,” Chan murmured, digging out a few bucks from his wallet and heading up to the counter, oblivious to the man approaching him from behind. “Yes, hi, can I get kimchi wangdu kyung and a pack of dumplings?” Chan ordered, sliding the money towards the cashier and waiting patiently. He tapped against the counter with the same rhythm he had been listening to all day, humming occasionally. “Thanks,” Chan grinned when his tray was handed over, and when he turned to walk away, he nearly bumped into a tall man with familiar blue contacted eyes. “Sorry, sorry!” Chan tried to act like he didn’t know who it was, but BamBam wasn’t having it.

 

“Chris…” Chan flinched at the breathy tone of BamBam, the taller tugging down his mask and looking down at the younger with sad eyes. Chan gulped and offered him a curt nod and smile, uttering out a low greeting before trying to swerve around him, but BamBam gripped his bicep gently. “Chris… Don’t avoid me. Can we talk? Please?” Chan flickered his eyes down to his tray, to the table where Minho sat staring at them and then back to BamBam.

 

“Just… Just let me put my tray down first,” Chan mumbled before darting over to the table, setting the tray down and letting Minho ask questions. “He’s a friend. He wants to talk.” Minho shifted uneasily in his seat but didn’t try and stop him in anyway except for asking Chan to kneel down a bit, grasping his head in his hands when Chan was eye level to connect their lips together. It was long and too heated for a public display of affection, but Chan kissed back with urgency, sliding together like perfect puzzle pieces. They pulled away with slightly puffed lips and light pants. “You little shit.” Minho snickered and pecked his lips once more.

 

“Just so he knows his limits.” Minho patted Chan’s cheek before sending him stumbling towards BamBam, who watched the whole thing with surprise. _Minho was good for Chan._ When Chan reached the taller, a blush was on his cheeks as he shyly apologized for the scene he just witnessed, rubbing the back of his neck in slight embarrassment. BamBam just laughed lowly and shook his head with a gentle smile.

 

“It’s okay. I know someone who’s the same way,” BamBam trailed off, a glint in his eyes that gave Chan a bit of hope. “Listen… I know it ended a little rough a few weeks ago but I don’t–,” BamBam stopped for a minute and squeezed his eyes shut while taking a heavy breath, “I don’t want you out of my life, Chan. We don’t need to be together romantically for me to be happy you’re even there. Besides… he’s good for you.” BamBam motioned towards Minho, who was not-so-subtly trying to eavesdrop. “I want us to be friends.” Chan weighed the option for a second. He didn’t see anything wrong with it really.

 

“Bam!” A voice sounded from the doorway. The two glanced over to see a tall, dark haired man who Chan recognized to be Yugyeom. He was about as beautiful in person as he was in the magazines. BamBam gave the man pleading eyes and Yugyeom relaxed slightly, sighing and waiting patiently. BamBam turned towards Chan, his eyes asking for an answer.

 

“Sure, BamBam.” The taller left the shop hand in hand with Yugyeom after meeting Minho and giving them both a hug and proud farewells. Both Chan and BamBam felt like another hole in their hearts had been filled and were more at peace with everything going on around them. This was another step in the right direction for Chan, and Minho was standing right beside him, making sure he didn’t backtrack by any means.

  


The stars hung high in the sky, the hills and trees going on for miles right before their very eyes. Minho and Chan were at the top of a cliff side, holding hands and watching the sun lend them a goodbye for the day and letting the moon say hello. The boys behind them were goofing off, Seungmin chasing Jeongin around and Woojin talking quietly with Changbin and Felix about how he’s trying to get into university to become a doctor. However, Chan and Minho were in their own little bubble away from the rest, content with the other’s presence as they stared up at the sky.

 

“I used to look up at these stars and wonder if you were doing the same,” Minho confessed quietly into the darkening sky, looking towards Chan with a small sparkle in his eyes. Chan chuckled lowly and looked down at their hands, rubbing his thumb along Minho’s knuckles. ‘“It’s true. I’d do a lot of things throughout the day and imagine what it would be like if you were actually there.” Minho felt silly saying it outloud, but the look Chan gave him calmed his nerves. “I feel silly –,”

 

“Like what?”

 

Minho stared at Chan for a moment. “I used to imagine sunrises mostly. What it would be like to be back to chest with you and in your arms.”

 

Chan gently scooted back in the grass until his back hit the rock in the ground behind him, pulling Minho so he was between his legs. Minho smiled as if he were on cloud nine when his back hit Chan’s firm chest and the elder’s strong arms twined around his waist. “You don’t have to imagine anymore. Even if this isn’t a sunrise,” Chan murmured, pressing a sweet kiss to the nape of Minho’s neck. “It’s not silly though. At least you didn’t buy mirrors every day,” Chan trailed off with a teasing laugh, Minho patting his arms with a playful smile.

 

A silence fell over them, the two feeling a complete sense of bliss. “I’m not just through the glass anymore… you know that right? I’m here. I’m staying here. I’m with you,” Minho whispered, turning around in Chan’s lap to press his palms flat against Chan’s face. Tears were glistening in Minho’s eyes as an overwhelming flutter of love appeared in his chest. “I love you. So much. I’m with you, love.” Their lips connected desperately, salty tears mixed in, but neither one really minded when they pulled away for air.   

“I know. God, I know. I love you too. Promise me it’ll stay like this, Minho. Promise me you’ll love me, because I didn’t nearly go insane only for you to leave me in the future. Promise me you’ll stay no matter what.”

 

“Always.”

 

Minho and Chan were happy. They had defeated the odds and barriers that were stopping them from being together. However, the way life rolled years later was a mystery to anyone who hadn’t experienced it themselves, and only few lived to tell the tale. Some believed they lived happily and unbothered. Other’s believed that it was all a dream and that the events taken place hadn’t truly happened. The only thing that _was_ known, was that there was one ending, and one ending alone.

 

**_But perhaps… that’s a story for another day._ **

 

[[Moodboard]](https://twitter.com/atumun15/status/1001089276845658112)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit... It's done. It's over. 
> 
> Tbh I didn't think I'd ever finish this book and I'm pleasantly surprised from the amount of support I got from this book and the friends that came out of it as well. Thanks to Ren, this wasn't a complete and utter mess (even tho it's still pretty shitty) But thank you for the support <33 
> 
> I hope you guys keep reading what's to come :)


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